Wired
by Magickal-Phay
Summary: They've been through swamps and storms. They've been on the brink of death and at each other's throats. But can the survivors hold it together long enough to make it to safety? Warnings: Contains mature content such as sexual themes and strong language.
1. Letting Go

There was a difference between the sight of immune blood with dead crimson sludge-blood, even though they essentially were the same thing. It didn't really matter logically if it were a human or a zombie, but the sight between the two was somewhat striking to Nick. Especially when they were splattered next to each other.

It had happened so fast. The safe house was just across the street; it blocked the bridge the four survivors had to cross if they had any hope of rescue. Just like every other time, that was when things went right to shit. The moment Coach announced the sight of the safe house, the blood curdling chortle of the un-dead shook the troupe just like it did when they'd first heard it months before. They responded like they grew accustomed to – a shower of bullets raining down on the horde.

The shit part: Ellis, surprised and happy-go-lucky Ellis, fumbled with his precious pistol and tried to catch it before it clattered to the ground. Nick, behind Rochelle, stopped firing his AK-47 in time to hear the pistol shoot, a bullet ricocheting into Ellis' bicep. Ellis' shocked gasp caused Nick to look behind him for a split second. Only when an infected woman grabbed him did he tear his gaze away to snap her jaw with a swing of his elbow. He had only caught a glance of the situation before looking away.

"Ah, shit!" Ellis cried. "Christ in a hand-basket, no!" His other hand shot up to his injured limb. He stumbled back in shock as blood pooled over onto his sun-kissed skin. Coach, positioned beside the kid, drew back his gun and hooked his free arm around Ellis before he hit the ground. He grunted at the sudden weight. Ellis cried out as the pain set in. Nick ran over to shield them with his gun power.

"What now?" he yelled.

"Ellis got shot!" Rochelle yelled. She grabbed a pipe bomb from her belt and placed her thumb over the activation button, using her free arm to swing a bat around sloppily.

Coach pulled Ellis to his knees in time to raise his other arm to continue shooting.

"Shit, this is not the best time, boy."

Ellis was hunched over his arm; hand over the gaping hole in his flesh.

"Don' worry 'bout it," Ellis choked. "Jus' – wait – I'kin – go!"

Rochelle pressed the button of the explosive and craned her arm back to throw the bomb away from them. Nick took the opportunity to whirl around, trying to ignore the blood thickly webbing Ellis' arm.

"Get up, get up, get UP!" he yelled as he stepped towards the safe house. Another bellow came from the alley on the other side of a fence. More infected scurried over, mouths snapping and flesh rotting. Some ran for the beeping bomb, most ran for the four survivors.

"Move, move, move!" Rochelle yelled. Coach hauled Ellis to his feet and ran towards the shelter.

The deafening explosion of the bomb forced the gang to cringe, their ears screaming in protest. The bodies of the infected flew into the air and made sickening plopping noises as they crunched onto the ground. Nick ran backwards with Rochelle, firing away at the remaining zombies. Once through the doorway, they tried to shut to the door. The limbs of various corpses wriggled their way in between the door and the wall.

"Push!" Nick ordered. Rochelle dropped her M-16 and grabbed the handle of the steel door, using all her weight to push it shut. Nick fired wildly out the window as arms flailed around and tried to grab for him, splattering his face with purple specks of goo. Coach loomed over them, trying to aim with his shotgun. Nick shoved him away.

"No, go get a health pack and do something useful! We got this!" he snarled. Coach stepped back, turning towards the mechanic.

"No, no, no," Ellis gasped. Blood completely covered his hand and kept spewing at an alarming rate. "It – it went through! It – it's – I can't – I - fuck!"

Nick reloaded his gun and resumed firing. Rochelle's body shook as she grew exhausted. Gray arms were still waving around, clawing at the gambler's sleeves.

"I don't think...I can...hold on!" Rochelle winced as sweat dripped into her eyes.

"Hold on!" Nick growled. He rocked back on his feet to gain a little momentum before slamming into it. The two grimaced at the sound of steel breaking right through the bones of the infected. The shrieks went silent.

"I can't feel mah arm!" Ellis stuttered, breaking the fraction of peace they had.

Rochelle turned at the comment and ran towards Ellis. She grabbed his arm gingerly, carefully rotating it. Ellis clenched his jaw and hissed a sharp intake of breath through his teeth. Coach had a health kit open beside him and was rummaging through to grab some gauze. Rochelle pulled the sleeve back, wrinkling her nose at the sight of so much blood. Coach showed little mercy as he wiped the wound and quickly pressed a roll of cotton to the lesion, dabbing at it.

The smell of burnt flesh caused the conman to swallow, even though he was standing away from the source.

"Shit." Coach placed his thumbs on either side of the wound and spread it open. Ellis sucked in a strained breath, trembling, tears streaming over his cheeks."I need tweezers. There's something in there. Jesus, you really got yourself into shit, son"

Ellis balled his hand into a tight fist as Coach picked up the tweezers and jabbed them into his patient's arm.

"AH, SHIT!" Ellis screamed. Nick shut his eyes and clenched his jaw. He turned away forcefully and stared out the window of the safe house door. Coach pulled his arm back, fingers and tweezers covered in blood. Clamped between the tweezers' tips was a small chunk of bone that broke into a sharp tip.

"Damn." Coach dropped the tool and shard onto the floor. With some gauze, he wrapped the entire roll around his arm, his nose stinging at the iron smell and his eyes waning at the sight of so much red.

When the gash was sealed, Coach grabbed a bottle of water and poured it over the hick's exposed and blood-drenched skin to clean it. It may have looked relatively okay, but Ellis still couldn't move his right arm.

"We might have to get you to a doctor," Rochelle murmured. "It won't stop bleeding on its own, will it?"

"Yeah, assuming that rescue's actually gonna show up," Nick spat back. Ellis looked up at the ceiling, sucking in deep breaths. Coach pulled a bottle of pills out of his pocket and tossed it into Ellis' lap. Rochelle took the bottle and opened it for him. Every eye flicked to Nick.

"They'll be there," Coach stated. "They will. I've got a good feeling about this."

"Really?" Nick yelled, spinning around. Ellis looked over, sweat dripping down the sides of his temples. "Well, guess what, big guy. A thousand bucks says that rescue ain't gonna come."

"Boy, watch your tone with me."

"Ah-ha! Fuck you!"

Everyone went silent as the tension started to inflame.

"Did you not see what just happened? We have someone with us now who can't even carry a gun! Yeah, that's helpful! At the beginning, we accidentally clipped each other, alright! Now, we're fuckin' shooting ourselves! Yeah, our luck is officially gone."

Ellis winced at the comment. Nick pretended that it was from the pain of his arm and not his own words.

"Wow, Nick," Rochelle sneered, angry tears pooling over onto her dark skin. She brought herself up to her feet and jabbed her index finger into the gambler's chest. "How long has it been? Hmm? Half a year? You've been with us for six months in this apocalypse bullshit. And all four of us are still here. Three of them are still putting up with your shit!"

"Listen, sweetheart, no one asked for your opinion."

"We ain't asking for yours, either," she replied. She dragged a bloodstained hand over her eyes, flicking off the tears.

"Shit," she choked. Nick rubbed the back of his neck, looking away, nostrils flaring. "We don't need it now. We've been through a lot today alone. Just shut up."

No one spoke. Rochelle was right. Running through a human-deserted city dodging bombs put everyone on edge; especially since the people releasing the bombs were the people that were supposed to be saving them. Especially since those same people took that other survivors and rounded them up to shoot them all a few miles back. They didn't even stand a chance.

Nick went silent, frustrated.

"Fine. I'll take first watch tonight. Alone."

And with a final glare at Coach, Nick grabbed his gun and climbed the ladder to post himself in front of the exit. Ellis followed him with his eyes, cringing as Nick stepped over him as if he weren't there.

How long had it been? Three weeks? No. A month. A month had passed since that fateful night in that goddamned swamp. So long ago. So why the hell couldn't Nick get over it? Why the hell did he dream about it almost every night? It was supposed to be a one-time thing...

"Nick? You awake?"

Nick snapped his eyes over at Ellis' voice sounding through the dark. Ellis emerged from the manhole in the floor. He held his arm close to his chest as he somewhat climbed the rest of the ladder and jumped over onto solid ground.

"What?" Nick huffed, repositioning himself against the wall.

"I kin take over watch fer you."

"No, thanks," Nick replied coarsely.

Ellis didn't respond, but sat down nonetheless and made sure to not touch his compatriot. His bandages were wet with blood again and his face was covered in beads of cold sweat.

"Ellis, go. You're too weak –"

"I can't sleep. So I might as well talk tuh you."

"I don't want you to talk to me so go away, please and thanks."

"I was thinkin' that I should stay here tomorruh."

Nick blinked and turned his head over to Ellis.

"Y'know, you were right – I can't carry a gun like this an' I'll only slow yah down, so I think it'd be wise to stay here an'...let you guys go. Let y'all have the best chance at survival possible."

Ellis turned and smiled at the conman softly. He was serious.

"No." Nick gritted his teeth. "Don't be retarded. We got this far, no one is getting left behind. Don't even think about it."

Ellis peered over, his baby blue eyes lighting up. Nick turned his hard gray-green eyes away, wrinkled with frustration. This wasn't helping his dilemma. No, it was feeding it. Nick was just saying that because needed Ellis' gun power. And yet he couldn't carry a gun. What the fuck was happening to him? Six months ago, he would have happily accepted Ellis' offer. Hell, Nick would have encouraged it. Now, Nick couldn't even think about Ellis in this safe house alone with no one to talk to; with no food or water; no hope. Something was happening within the card-shark that he couldn't even comprehend. Why couldn't he friggin' figure it out?

Ellis fingered his bandages and opened his mouth again.

"Listen, I wanted tuh thank yah for today."

"Thank me?" Nick asked harshly, the frustration of his self-argument intruding his tone.

"Yeah, it's what friends do."

"No, kid." Nick returned his eyes to Ellis'. "I am not your friend. I am anything but your friend – if anything, I am your fuckin' saviour and nothing more. I'm not your friend; I am not your buddy; I am not your pal. I am your god damned babysitter."

Ellis wrinkled his nose, his soft smile gone as a fast as a snap of the fingers. Ellis scratched the back of his head under his hat. Nick pressed his head against the wall of the safe house.

"Well, I still consider us friends."

Nick's face contorted into an evil sneer. "Any chance of you and I becoming more than fellow survivors was washed away last month, so forget it."

Ellis looked down at his hands that were placed on his lap. He knew exactly what Nick was saying. Slowly, a vivid memory played through in his head; a memory of him and Nick that changed the course of their relationship.

"Why'd yah bring that up?" he muttered.

"I didn't. You did."

"No," Ellis concurred, "you did. I didn't bring up anythin' like that. I never even implied it. It was the last thing I wanted to talk about. I thought you said that you'd get over it."

"Kinda hard to when the person I fucked is around twenty-four-seven acting as if nothing happened."

Ellis looked up. "Yah think it's easier for me? There were reasons why I let you do it. Reasons beyond debts and reasons beyond my control. I don' care if yah don' wanna hear it, but that's the truth. So maybe we can't be friends, let alone... more..."

Nick turned his face away. No, they couldn't be friends. They were already beyond that. The thing was, Nick wasn't going to allow it.

"Shit," Ellis muttered shakily. "I should go... change my bandages," Ellis mumbled as he stood up. He gripped the ladder with his good arm and descended away from Nick's view.

"God dammit," Nick whispered to himself. He pressed his shaking hands to the bridge of his nose and sucked in a breath. And for once, Nick felt the sting of guilt, feeling twice as frustrated as before.

"Shit, is he dead or somethin'? Nick!"

Nick moaned at the sound and rolled over. Various joints cracked painfully as he slowly opened his eyes from a restless sleep.

The ladder shook as someone climbed it. Coach poked his head from the hole in the ground.

"Never mind, he's awake. C'mon, son, time to get up. We need to get out of here."

Sunlight caressed Nick through the slot on the safe house door. The smell of metal and dust entered his nose. He brought himself to his hands and knees, then to his feet.

"What's goin' on?" he asked loudly. The previous night's events had escaped his mind as he asked so casually.

"We gotta go."

"Now?" Nick asked childishly.

"Yes, now!" Coach barked.

Nick frowned at the man and grabbed his gun. In front of him were more guns, ammo, throw-ables, and an adrenaline shot. Nick pocketed the adrenaline shot, along with a bile jar (to his disgust) and enough ammo to fill his gun for a while.

"Can someone toss up a health pack?" he asked.

"Nope. No more."

Nick caught his breath. "What? There were five of them yesterday!"

"Yeah, and Ellis went through two of them, already. We grabbed what was left and stuffed them in the other three. We have them all down here, strapped to our backs."

"Fine," Nick responded.

Suddenly, a whoosh sounded over the safe house as a fighter jet sped past.

"Sounds like help!" Rochelle cried.

"I wouldn't be too sure," Nick said slowly. "Yesterday, weren't they bombing the city –"

Something exploded outside the safe house, confirming Nick's implication. He lost his balance and flailed his arms around to keep his footing as the ground suddenly jerked around. A piece of the ceiling broke free and landed right beside his foot.

"Is everyone okay?" he asked.

"We're fine! Let's just get out of here to safety."

"Before we run across this bridge right toward the people who've been dropping bombs on us, anyone wanna talk about a Plan B?"

"No," Coach replied.

"Alright," Nick muttered. "Let's go."

Nick placed a ringed hand on the steel bar holding the door secure and wrenched it away. He tossed it to the ground as Rochelle emerged from the lower floor, followed by Coach and finally Ellis.

Ellis was paler than last night, and his gun wound had been bound tight. Someone must have tied gauze around his arm above the injury to tourniquet it. As if he weren't harmed, Ellis was wielding a combat shotgun proudly.

"C'mon, let's do it!" he whooped. Nick looked at the mechanic with worry. Nick watched everyone file out into the sunlight before he followed. Something caught his eye, though. Before leaving the safety of the last safe house he'd encounter, Nick saw a katana.

Every time the gambler saw a katana, he grinned. Seriously, who leaves a bona fide ninja sword out in the open? Nonetheless, it was his favourite weapon to swing around. He picked up the sword, tossing down his pistols, and strapped it to his back.

Outside, everything looked relatively safe, save for the dozens of bodies strewn all over the ground. The silence was broken by muffled whirring.

"You hear that?" Rochelle asked quietly. "Sounds like a radio."

Ellis picked up on the sound. "Dude, that's a soldier! He has a walkie-talkie thing."

Ellis crouched next to the uniform-clad body and grabbed the radio.

"Rescue 7 this is Papa Gator, over."

"This is Rescue 7, over."

"Rescue 7, what is your prepare stat? Over."

"Prepare ETA 10 minutes over."

"Say something," Rochelle ordered. Ellis' fingers pressed down on the talk button. He licked his lips, hoping he was doing something right.

"Hello, there?" he asked.

"Wait, it's coming from the bridge! Bridge, who is this?"

"Ma name's Ellis. There're four'a us on the uh... west end of the bridge."

Nick slowly walked to the gate blocking his path. He cocked his AK-47, heart racing.

"Bridge, are you immune?" the soldier asked.

"What do you mean?" Ellis asked.

"Have you encountered the infected?"

"Well, yeah, we fought zombies!" Ellis replied with a smile.

"Rescue 7, do you have any carriers? Over."

"We...have one, sir. Over."

"Alright, Bridge, the closest we can get is on the other side of the bridge. Make a run for it, rescue will be there as soon as they can. There's a power box connected to the radio. Push the large yellow button on the right side. That will lower the bridge."

"Alright, see yah there!"

"God bless."

Rochelle quickly pressed the button as Ellis tossed the radio away.

The bridge creaked and groaned before the hydraulics kicked it. The massive concrete structure slowly descended.

"Yeah, that's gonna cause a lot of attention," Coach muttered. "Alright, Nick, you man the front. Ro, y'all follow him, then Ellis, then me."

Everyone nodded and cocked their guns, knees bent, muscles trembling, hands shaking. The bridge made its destination with a bang before the metal lip raised itself and slammed to the ground. The gate swung open, and every infected on the bridge snapped their heads over to investigate.

"RUN!" Nick ordered.

No one hesitated. Nick positioned the gun in his hands and started firing, trying to keep the team on the left side of the bridge. The zombies ran to meet them, crawiling out from under trucks and out of cars They were met with a few bullets to their soft heads before falling under the survivors' feet.

"Alright, that's it, keep going!" Rochelle yelled.

Nick peeked behind him. One, two, three. Everyone was still there, aiming and firing. Even Ellis, with his useless arm holding the gun up, was giving her all he got. Nick looked away, resuming his shooting.

Halfway there.

Little did the gang know that they were on a broken path.

Nick skidded to a halt, all three others running into him. Rochelle grabbed Nick to prevent him from falling into the water below.

"Shit!" he yelled. The bridge had a gaping hole in it that stretched from one side of the bridge to the other, severing their path. The only thing that held it together was the posts that were feet below them; unreachable. A tour bus had tipped over on its side and was suspended over the hole to the other side. It was the only way across. Nick ran to it, thanking the heavens that the bus was on its side and not right-side up.

"Up, up, up!" he chanted to himself as he climbed the bus, using the exposed pipes as steps. "Up here!"

Coach started climbing the belly of the bus much like Nick did while Nick grabbed Rochelle's hand. He hauled her up and pulled her behind him. "Ok, run across to the other side!"

Rochelle reloaded her gun and took a few shots around Ellis on the ground to clear the infected. Ellis whacked the zombies out of the way. Something on the other side of the bridge caught Ellis' attention. He faltered and stared over, eyes widening. The entire colour left in his face drained. He didn't move, like a deer caught in the headlights. So scared...

"Gimme your hand, Overalls!" Nick yelled. Ellis didn't hear him. Rochelle and Coach were already on the other side of the bridge yelling for them to hurry. "What the hell are you looking at? Give me your hand!"

"TANK!" Ellis screamed.

The ground shook under the survivors' feet, a low, loud growl echoing all around them. The Tank, riddled with muscles and fuelled by pre anger and frustration, had found the survivors. And he was pissed. It started running towards them, using its massive arms as legs.

Ellis turned to Nick and reached up. Nick securely grabbed his wrist and frantically wrenched him upwards, forgetting the fact that it was Ellis' right arm he was clutching.

"AH!" Ellis gasped. The bandages around his bicep unravelled and slipped off, slowly gliding away with the breeze. The tourniquet held firm, slowing the blood flow that had reawakened on account of Nick's actions. Nick watched as the blood flowed over Ellis' paler-than-usual complexion. He tried to ignore it and successfully pulled the kid onto the bus.

"Shoot the tank, everyone shoot the tank!" Coach yelled. "God dammit!" Rochelle and Coach fired at the beast along with the swarming infected.

The Tank, unable to get there any faster, compensated by slamming its massive hands into the bridge. A large slab of concrete broke free. It lifted it over his head. It looked right at Ellis.

"GET DOWN!" Nick screamed as the Tank hurled the rock. Thankfully, the bus' door was facing the sky and was ajar. Ellis scurried into the bus. Nick only had enough time to drop to his stomach, barely shirking the concrete.

"Nick!"

Nick looked through the windows he was on top of and saw Ellis on his knees looking up at him. And for a split second, Nick saw fear in Ellis' eyes. Nick dragged himself through the door and landed on the windows below.

"C'mon, Ellis, get up!" he yelled desperately. He heard the Tank, slowly coming closer with every shaking stride. He looked to the other end of the bus where they were supposed to exit from. The Tank was running right for them. If it got into the bus, that was it.

Ellis got to his feet, picked up his gun, and ran across the windows with Nick in front of him. They creaked ominously, but the sound was ignored as the Tank was growing ever closer. Coach and Rochelle shot at it frantically, but it took no interest in them. It was focussed on the bleeding survivor, hunger and rage burning in its eyes.

One of the windows shattered under Ellis' foot. His leg fell through the metal frame. Nick didn't notice until Ellis yelled in shock. Ellis' leg was completely suspended over the river. The awkward position made it nearly impossible for Ellis to pull himself up on his own.

"Ellis!" Nick spun around and grabbed the hick's bad arm, pulling him free and shoving him forward. Ellis limped slightly, costing them precious milliseconds.

The Tank was only ten feet away. The bus shook and jolted over the water as Ellis stepped out onto solid ground. He jumped to the side as the Tank swung its arm back. Nick jumped out of the bus, close enough to touch the brute with an outstretched arm. He ducked and jumped out of the way as the Tank connected its swing, connecting it to the bus' roof with an ominous crunching noise.

The four survivors ran for their lives as the bus teetered over the edge and fell through the hole in the structure. The top-heavy Tank followed the vehicle, tumbling over the edge. Thankfully for him, he managed to dig a large hand into the concrete, preventing his death in the waves underneath him.

"Go!" Rochelle shrieked. Ditching their previous line, Rochelle ran with Coach behind Ellis and Nick.

"Shit, this hurts," Ellis choked. He held his gun in his injured arm, using his other to grip his bleeding wound.

"You've had worse," grunted Nick. They were nearing the end of the bridge. Coach and Rochelle managed to pick off the ravenous zombies before they had a chance. But they wouldn't stop coming. Every time one zombie went down, three others took its place.

It became apparent that Ellis was no longer the only one bleeding. Everyone else started obtaining wounds that bled a little, a cut here, a cut there, but no one dared slow down.

"There's the chopper!" Coach yelled. Rescue 7 was in the helicopter on the helipad, watching the four survivors fight their way across.

"Through here!"

Everyone watched as Rochelle banged a right, running off the bridge onto the off-ramp.

"Reloading!" she yelled. She shoved her hand into her ammo-pack. "Shit!"

She tossed her gun down, out of ammo. Coach fired three more shots before his gun started clicking. "I'm out, too! Looks like we're running from here on out!"

Nick gritted his teeth, aware that he was, too, out of ammunition.

"Tits," he cursed. He threw his gun over his head and heard it clatter on the road behind him. Ellis looked up at Nick and licked his lips nervously. He was still limping slightly. Nick stepped closer to Ellis, panting.

"Give me your gun, kid."

Ellis looked over, blue eyes dimming. "What?"

"Give me your gun!" he yelled. Once Ellis listened, Nick didn't fire it. A noise stole his attention – the loud thump-thumping of a beast running after them. Rochelle looked over her shoulder.

"Tank!" she yelled. "It's following us!"

She was correct. The Tank was racing after them, crushing any infected in its path, roaring with fury. The shriek of another mob of infected sounded to the left over the boarded fence of the road.

Nick wrapped his arm around the hick, pulling him faster. If something miraculous didn't happen fast, all that running around for six months wouldn't count for shit. Everything would be lost.

That's when something clicked. And it wasn't another empty gun. Something in Nick's head clicked over. A feeling of warmth washed through him as the puzzle pieces finally fit together. It was so immense; it caused him to slow his stride slightly.

All that denial... thinking over and over about it... refusing to let go and get over it... thinking about it in the middle of the race of his life.

"Nick, I'm jus' slowin' yah down!" Ellis panted. Nick broke out of his trance and looked over at the man he was carrying.

"That may be, Ellis, but I'm going to make sure that you get your red-neck ass on that fucking chopper," Nick growled.

The sun was behind them, burning the survivors' sweaty backs. And thankfully so, for the sun touched a metal object, causing the light to reflect right into Nick's eyes. It was a heavy machine gun rigged on a truck.

Nick released Ellis and leapt onto the truck. The Tank was just coming off the bridge and the zombies were scrambling over the fence.

Coach and Rochelle grabbed onto Ellis and started pulling him away.

"Wait! Nick!" he yelled.

"Get on that damn 'copter!" Nick barked. "Coach, take him – them! Take them and run!"

Coach hesitated, but forced Ellis away.

"No! Nick!"

Nick ignored the mechanic's desperate cries as he shoved the first clip of the belt of ammo into the gun. He pulled back the safety and cocked it as the three others disappeared over a ledge towards the helipad.

The Tank was still focussing on Ellis. It grabbed the edge of the fence dividing it and the path to the kid, ready to rip it out of its way.

"OVER HERE, YOU BASTARD!" Nick screamed. He pulled back the trigger and felt the gun whirl to life. Bullets exploded out of it and entered the Tank's side as well as any surrounding infected. With a few swings of the gun, he managed to take out any common infected with ease, leaving him to take on the Tank at full force. Chunks of muscle and trails of blood flew from the monstrosity. It turned to the annoyance and started barrelling for him.

"That's it, get over here!" Nick taunted. To his horror, the monster-zombie didn't slow. It didn't show any sign of weakness.

Nick looked over to see Coach dragging Ellis into the chopper, obviously struggling. Rochelle was already in the aircraft, watching Nick and stricken with fear. He turned back to the Tank, who was getting ever closer.

The gun grew hot in his palms as more bullets fired. Soon, the gun was blistering hot. Nick had no choice but to release it. He was cornered, his back pressed up against the cab of the truck. His heart was going a mile a minute as the Tank got threateningly close. Refusing to let the beast live, Nick reached behind him and firmly grasped the handle of his katana. He pulled it free and faced the Tank just as it swung its arm up again to strike the truck.

"EAT THIS!" Nick pulled his hands over his head, brandishing the ninja weapon, and forced it right into the Tank's skull.

The Tank shrieked and wriggled under the blade, Nick screaming the entire time. The Tank threw its raised arm forward and hit Nick square in the chest. The air was knocked out of his lungs as his feet left the truck bed. The force of the impact caused Nick to soar through the air, over the fence and closer to the helipad. Nick watched as the Tank fell to the ground dead before he, too, hit the ground. The sound of breaking bones and shattering glass echoed through his ears as he painfully hit the ground once, twice, three times before rolling to a stop.

"NICK! GET UP!"

Nick coughed and painfully picked himself off the ground. His legs felt fine, but his side felt like a blade was wedged in it. Something wet oozed down his leg as he wiped his blood from his eyes. The sick smell of vomit entered his nose. He looked to his leg. The bile bomb he had collected minutes before had shattered in his pouch and was oozing from the seams. Nick unbuckled it and let it fall to the ground. Some green stained his suit as he made a run for it, clutching his side and blinking through a stream of blood.

The infected swarmed behind him, attacking the leather pouch that was discarded. Nick made it to the helipad before he started coughing.

"Shit," he rasped. The Tank must have broken a rib or something...

"Go, go, go!" Coach yelled.

Nick watched as the helicopter's blades started accelerating, readying itself for takeoff. Coach yelled to the pilot. "No not you!" The pilot ignored him and started taking off, sending Coach and Rochelle tumbling away from the hatch.

"No, you don't!" Nick growled. Out of pure instinct, Nick lunged for the opening of the helicopter as it flew over the river. He missed.

Ellis didn't.

Ellis shot his arm down and grabbed Nick's wrist before he fell to his death below. His shoulder felt the sudden strain. Nick blinked and looked up at Ellis, who was on his belly reaching down to Nick with his injured arm. Nick grabbed onto Ellis' wrist in response.

"Don't you dare let go," he panted. Ellis replied by further tightening his grip on the conman, blood pooling onto his white cuff. Ellis slowly started pulling Nick into the chopper.

But they were still too close to solid ground to be safe.

An all-too-familiar shriek sounded behind Nick. Ellis looked up and saw the Hunter just before it jumped from the edge of the helipad, hunger burning in his eyes. And the only thing it could grab onto was the man closest to him.

It grabbed onto Nick's bile-splattered thigh. Unprepared, Ellis slid closer to the edge of the helicopter's edge. Rochelle and Coach grabbed onto his legs.

The Hunter was still clutching on the conman's thigh, ravenously clawing through the fabric to get to his flesh. Nick looked down frantically, Ellis grunting as his sweaty hand lubricated the other. Nick was slipping.

With a deft kick from Nick, the Hunter lost its grip and fell, clawing at the air, into the water below.

Coach and Rochelle pulled the two of them back into the chopper as the hatch slowly closed.

No one spoke as Nick fell on top of Ellis, spent and exhausted. Ellis panted, adrenaline slowly receding.

"We made it," he whispered. He started laughing. "We FUCKING made it!"

Ellis cheered and Coach and Rochelle smiled widely. Nick propped himself on his elbows to look at Ellis. Ellis looked back at him, his smile faltering.

"Nick, did you... uhh... piss yourelf?" he asked quietly.

"No!" Nick replied. Just to be sure, Nick looked down to his crotch. He caught his breath, cringed, looked back up at Ellis and opened his mouth. Instead of words, he coughed. Blood speckled Ellis' face. "Oh, fuck," Nick breathed. Ellis stared at Nick, petrified, as he realized that they were still fighting for survival.

Ellis rolled Nick off him, worry breaking through his previously happy expression. No, Nick had not wet himself, but his thigh was soaked with dark red blood. Nick coughed again, choked by the blood that slowly entered his lung from his broken rib. "Ah, shit! Ah, FUCK!"

Rochelle and Coach didn't react right away, but when they did, it was all-hands-on-deck.

"What's going on?" Rescue 7 yelled over the whir of the helicopter's blades.

"One of our men is bleeding!" Coach responded. "A lot. Shit, it's coming from his thigh. I think one of his veins was severed!"

"Is he infected?" the pilot asked. "Was he bitten?"

"No!" Coach yelled.

"Ok, try to stop the bleeding – there's a secure hospital in the city. It's safe there! But it's fifteen minutes away. Try to stop the bleeding with anything you have!"

Rochelle grabbed her health pack and tore it open, breaking the zipper apart in her haste. The blood was flowing like a fountain; non-stop and pulsating. A puddle had already formed on the floor underneath Nick, mixing with the goo of the zombie-blood he had accumulated. Nick whimpered and grunted, trying not to move. He coughed again as more and more blood suffocated him.

"Get his leg up!" Rescue 7 ordered. "If you guys have a belt, fasten it around his leg and make it as tight as you can."

Ellis eyed Nick's belt and grabbed it. Nick laid his arms to the ground, allowing access. Ellis licked his lips and unbuckled the metal, hearing the leather slip over the thick fabric of the conman's pants. Rochelle grabbed it and wrapped it around Nick's soaked thigh. She ran the belt through the buckle and heaved on it.

"Hold it there!" Ellis said desperately. He grabbed a pair of surgical scissors and cut away the soiled fabric blocking his view without qualms. Once the fabric was whisked away, Ellis caught his breath. He fell back to his backside in shock at the horrific sight.

Nick's flesh wasn't cut – it had been butchered. The flesh looked filleted, like little ribbons. One ribbon of skin was hanging loose, and Ellis could see parts of Nick's thigh bone. Nick tried to look, but the pain in his side hit him at full force. Coach held him down and wiped his chin of the blood that was slowing increasing in flow.

"C'mon, Ellis, wrap his leg!" Rochelle strained. Her knuckles were turning white from holding the belt tight around Nick's ever-spurting thigh.

"C'mere, son!" Coach ordered, seeing how distressed Ellis was getting. The two men switched places. Coach started to quickly bind Nick's leg. He used everything – all the gauze, all the tensor bandages, and all the medical tape. Blood still seeped through. Coach used all his weight to press down on the card-shark's leg. There was so much blood on the floor; Coach's knees slipped around as he tried to apply the adequate pressure to the wound.

"Prop him up!" Rochelle yelled. Ellis grabbed Nick and held him up, allowing him to cough up more blood without choking on it. Ellis held him tight in his arms.

"Kid..." Nick rasped. Ellis barely heard him, but he looked down to meet the conman's tired eyes.

"Nick?" Ellis asked quietly. He brought his face closer Nick's.

"Ellis..." Nick tried to get a breath down and winced, a thin stream of blood slowly trailing out of the corner of his mouth. "I... always thought...about what I would say... on my deathbed...'cause it was always...around the...corner..."

Nick started coughing again. He gripped Ellis' Bull Shifters shirt and brought his face close. Ellis' jaw trembled.

"Maybe...it wasn't a mistake..."

"Nick please..." Ellis begged quietly, not ready for what was to come. His nose started stinging as his world slowly broke open.

"Maybe... I was too selfish to...realize that...there are more...people in this world...than me..."

Ellis started shaking. Nick coughed again, his breath coming out in wheezes.

"I wasn't... about to admit that...I didn't want to...admit it...to myself...I guess I'm an arrogant asshole that way..."

"No..." Ellis choked. He closed his eyes as if that would help in shutting away the pain clawing at his chest.

"And you...admitted it...to me...when you said that...there were reasons...beyond your control... when you were saying... why you let me... do that to you..."

Ellis sucked in a breath and shook his head helplessly. "Why'd you bring that up?" he asked quietly.

"Because...you were telling me...something else...weren't you...? When you said that..."

Ellis' eyelashes glistened as he tried to shut his eyes tighter. Nick was right.

"Ellis, look at me..." Nick whispered. Ellis kept his eyes shut. "Kid, open...your eyes."

And Ellis did. Nick's vision started to blur as Ellis looked down at him, tears searing over his cheeks.

A tear dripped off the end of Ellis' nose and onto Nick's numb cheek as his eyes stared down at the dying man.

Ellis tightened his hold around Nick.

Nick smiled weakly as his legs went numb slowly, emitting the pain that tortured him. It slowly washed over him towards his chest.

"We're at the hospital, ready for landing!"

Nick didn't bother paying attention as the numbness had reached his neck.

"Nick...?" Ellis asked quietly. "Nick? Nick!"

But the man wasn't moving, or speaking. Nick watched as Ellis yelled out his name over and over, his voice slowly fading away into a distant hum, darkness slowly clouding his eyes, and arms pulling him under to an inviting embrace of nothingness.

To Be Continued


	2. Bleed For Me

Bleed For Me

"Nick? Nick!"

This wasn't happening. No – no, it couldn't! They were so close to that hospital! This wasn't supposed to be the end of it all. Nick wasn't supposed to die.

"Nick, stay with me! I'm right here, look at me!"

Ellis watched as Nick's eyes drifted away from his, masked with the fluttering of eyelashes. His eyes wavered eerily as if he were watching a dream and not the bloody reality around him. Ellis turned Nick's face to meet his gaze, but Nick wasn't seeing Ellis anymore. His eyes were just open and swaying and useless.

Was this the prologue to death? Ellis didn't know... everything he killed was already essentially dead. There were neither death rattles nor the stillness of eyes from any of his countless zombie-victims. Of course, he had been curious in the past about death. But this was Nick... this was the man that helped him up when he was down, even if he was being an ass about it. He was seconds from death, it seemed. His breaths were erratic and shallow, his white suit soiled with his own blood, his eyes just fluttering.

"I'm so... sorry, Nick. This is... all my fault..."

If he hadn't shot himself, would that have saved Nick? It would have bought him extra time... Nick wouldn't have had to stay behind and fight that Tank all by himself. He would have made it to the chopper safely without that Hunter pouncing on him. He would be making sarcastic comments right now as they flew to safety, not dying on the floor of a military aircraft in his own blood. If Ellis wasn't so fucking clumsy... if Ellis wasn't too busy joking around... Nick wouldn't have to pay the price...

Ellis wrinkled his eyes as tears poured over and stained his dirt-covered face. He pulled back, shaking and jerking around with the movement of the helicopter swaying in the wind. He pressed his lips to Nick's forehead. He didn't kiss him, but breathed in his scent slowly. Coach and Rochelle remained oblivious to the fact that they were about to lose him. Maybe it was for the best.

Nick twitched roughly, making Ellis' wet eyes blink open. Was that the helicopter? No, Nick was the only one that moved. Wasn't he too weak to move? Wasn't he on the brink of death?

"Nick?" Ellis asked. He pulled away quickly and grabbed Nick's face with his right hand. His gunshot wound throbbed slightly with the movement, but Ellis wasn't worried about that.

The conman's eyes fluttered, his breaths barely escaping his slightly parted, bloodstained mouth. Ellis hadn't heard them, but now that he was listening, they sounded as if Nick was being suffocated slowly. Nick's broken body convulsed as he tried to gulp down air, blood blocking the way.

"Calm down, man! I'm here, jus' breathe!"

His chest convulsed as he gasped for air again, his eyes slowly rolling up to the back of his head. His arms shook around in short twitchy movements that made his rings clink against the reinforced metal under him. His lips started to turn a frightening shade of blue.

"What's happening?"

Suddenly, the chopper stopped moving. It hit the landing pad below it hard, jolting the survivors around roughly. Nick gasped again at the rough movement.

Ellis heard the clicking of buttons and a seatbelt as the pilot powered down the helicopter. The man left his seat and pulled off his helmet. He dropped it onto the co-pilot seat. His short brown hair was plastered to his face with sweat, his cheeks red; it was a stark contrast to the military uniform he adorned. Ellis looked into Rescue 7's eyes intensely – help him.

Rescue 7 pulled his radio from his belt and held it to his face as he knelt down beside Nick. He pressed his middle finger and index finger to the side of Nick's neck. He used his other hand to press the talk button on the device, his brown eyes looking up and down Nick's body. He removed his hand from Nick's neck and moved them to his mouth, touching Nick's blue lips.

"Papa Gator, this is Rescue 7, over!"

The pilot released the talk button and held the radio close to his ear. He ascended to his feet and turned to the side-hatch of the aircraft. He pulled up a lever and wrenched the door open. The sun poured in and fell upon Nick, reflecting off the red blood on the floor. Rescue 7 pulled a gun from his holster and looked outside. Ellis saw the doors to the hospital, but they didn't open.

The radio crackled with a reply. "What's your position, Rescue 7?"

"I have the survivors on the helicopter. We've landed successfully," the pilot replied. He pointed the gun left, right, and left again before turning back to the survivors. "I have an injured... middle-aged man up here. We need medical assistance."

"What is the man's status? Over."

"Massive blood loss from several gashes to the inside of his right thigh; blood is coming from his lungs; he has a fresh wound on his head; he's going into shock, sir. We need a doctor up here, stat. Over."

"Sending one up right now. Out."

Rescue 7 replaced his radio to his side and returned to Nick's other side.

"Keep the pressure on his leg, prop him up to let the blood flow from his mouth."

Ellis obeyed immediately and propped Nick up. Blood oozed over the conman's blue lips, spilling onto his blue dress shirt. Rescue 7 jumped to his feet again. He opened a hutch above the door to the cockpit. He started pulling out blankets. He tossed them to Ellis, who caught them with one hand. With Coach's help, they laid the blankets over Nick and tucked them under him. Ellis pulled his shaking head closer and listened to Nick's wheezing.

Everyone looked up as the doors to the hospital entrance flew open. Two military personnel armed with rifles stepped out, scoping the area for any infected.

"Clear!"

The soldiers kept their guns at the ready while allowing two medics in military uniforms to run out with a stretcher. A man in a white lab coat followed close behind. Ellis assumed he was the doctor...

The medics removed the top part of the stretcher and placed it beside Nick in preparation for moving him. The doctor pulled himself inside as he probed his front pocket for something. He pulled out a little card and a cotton swab. He collected a droplet of Nick's precious blood and smeared it onto the card. He looked at the puddle of blood on the floor. The blankets were soaking up the red liquid.

"We need to get him a blood transfusion," the doctor muttered. He checked Nick's pulse and breathing. "Shit. Move him!"

"Sir," one of the medics said, "CEDA has prohibited blood trans – "

"I said move him."

Ellis looked at the doctor defensively. He had a fit and slender frame topped off with hazel eyes and dirty blonde hair. He grabbed onto Ellis' injured arm and held it reassuringly.

Ellis swallowed and released Nick, shimmying away from his gasping body.

The first medic stepped over Nick's legs. The other took position on the other side. They slipped their hands underneath Nick.

"One, two, three!"

With a grunt, Nick was lifted out of Ellis' reach onto the stretcher. They moved him onto the trolley. The medic reached down and pulled out an oxygen mask, which he placed over Nick's pale face. They buckled him in and started to pull him back to the door. The soldiers carrying the rifles escorted the others inside, pushing them to run. Rescue 7 waved quickly before closing the helicopter.

The smell of sanitation attacked Ellis' nose as he stepped into the massive building. He rubbed his nose, smearing his own blood all over his face. He looked at his arm, still covered in his slowly flowing blood from his wound. He jumped at the loud bang of the hospital door shutting behind him. The sunlight disappeared, the light now coming from cool fluorescent lights.

The medics stepped away from the stretcher and stood beside the soldiers, ready for another helicopter landing.

"You, there!" the doctor yelled. Ellis looked up. The doctor waved for him to follow as he pushed the stretcher down a dimly light hallway. Rochelle and Coach were pushing the stretcher. Ellis started to run after them, placing his hand over his gaping flesh wound. His boots set an ominous tempo to the wheels of the stretcher.

"We'll notify you of any other chopper-patients!" one medic informed. Ellis cursed under his breath. Where were the nurses, the paramedics, the other doctors? Ellis grabbed the stretcher and pressed his weight against it, pushing it faster. Nick's body wobbled with the movements of the bed. His twitching and gasping for air were getting quieter and more sporadic.

They turned a corner and met the sliding doors of an elevator. They ran inside and doors banged shut. Once they were all alone, the doctor pulled out three more cards and swabs.

"Quick, before the doors open! Smear the blood on the indicator strip. You, woman – "

"It's Ro'."

" – pull those blankets off him."

Rochelle unbuckled Nick's restraints. She started to free Nick of the warm blankets. Coach took them from her when she had to take her own blood sample. Ellis didn't use the swab. He slapped the card onto his arm and peeled it off. He handed it back to the doctor and returned his eyes to Nick's pale face.

Nick coughed a final time, splattering the filmy plastic mask over his mouth with foamy blood. At that moment, Rochelle and Coach pulled the blankets away entirely from the conman's body.

Ellis didn't know what scared him more – the sight of Nick's bare leg exuding what looked more like Kool-Aid than blood or the sudden clang sounding throughout the elevator.

The lights flickered and shut off. The only light was the tiny green dot on the oxygen machine helping Nick. There was a moment of stunned silence as the elevator squealed to a halt.

"What's goin' on?" Coach ordered. "Why are the lights out?"

"Power failures are frequent here," the doctor replied. Ellis widened his eyes in the blackness as if it would help him see. "We should be fine – "

An eerie groan echoed through the elevator. There was a loud snap, like the strings of a guitar slowly breaking.

_Pew, pew, pew._

"That's not so frequent," the doctor murmured. "I dunno what that is."

"Don' move," Ellis ordered.

The sound became more rapid, speeding up the hearts of everyone trapped inside the black box.

The elevator dropped suddenly. Ellis' fort caught behind one of the wheels of the stretcher. He fell onto his back, the wind knocked out of him. Deafening squeals rushed past them as they plummeted deeper down the elevator shaft. But just as fast as it had happened, it stopped. The elevator halted, making everyone slam into the ground. Ellis heard the rustling of fabric and the squeak of the stretcher. He could barely see the outline of Nick's body teetering over the edge before he fell. Ellis caught Nick with his arms, breaking his fall. But that wasn't the only thing that broke.

Ellis thought he had a firm hold on Nick's limp shoulders when his right arm gave out with a loud crack. He gasped at the feeling of his chipped bone snapping in half. He felt the skin tear away as the bone broke free from its fleshy prison, blood spurting onto Nick's chest. Nick fell on top of Ellis, wheezing. Ellis couldn't get a breath down, his gut cold with shock.

"Everyone okay?" the doctor asked.

"I tink I pushed Nick ob deh stretcher," replied Rochelle. Her voice was nasally and bubbling. The doctor grabbed a flashlight from under the stretcher and clicked it on.

"Oh, shit, girl," he muttered. Rochelle blinked through the light, holding her face. "Lemme see."

Rochelle removed her hands, wrinkling her eyes. Her nose, bleeding over her lips, had snapped over to the side grotesquely.

"I hit my head on deh bar," she said. "I'm fine, dough."

The doctor turned around and saw Nick laying limp on top of Ellis, who was biting down a scream.

"You okay?" he asked. Ellis whimpered, but forced a nod. Coach, who appeared to be okay, helped the doctor pull Nick back onto the stretcher. Ellis cradled his arm against his chest, grunting in pain. The bone broke the skin and was sticking an inch or so out. Marrow and blood soiled Ellis' shirt further along with the gray carpet of the elevator.

"We need to get out. You gotta crowbar or somethin'?" Coach asked.

"Under the stretcher. Pass me the first aid kit while you're at it."

The doctor grabbed Ellis' arm, sending a string of swear words out of his mouth. Coach tossed the kit into the doctor's lap and flipped the crowbar around in his gloved hand.

"Hey, just like old times, huh?"

Coach jammed the crowbar between the doors and started to pry them open. The doctor tied Ellis' arm in a protective sling and helped him to his feet.

Fluorescent light burst into the bottom of the elevator through the crack between the doors. Sounds entered the mobile room: murmurs, footsteps, and heart monitors.

Coach pushed the doors open the rest of the way using his large body. The elevator had just missed the right mark. There was only two feet of space at the bottom of the elevator to escape. The stretcher wouldn't be able to fit. Nurses appeared at the bottom, peering up. One nurse called for assistance.

"Doctor Bixon," she called. "What happened?"

"Elevator shut down and the cables are giving out as we speak. We have someone in critical condition up here, one with a broken nose, and one with a broken humerus. Get me some stretchers and some help unloading these guys!"

"On it!" the nurse replied. "You, go get a stretcher and another doctor. You, help me get these guys out."

The doctor grabbed Rochelle's arm. "You first; then you, kid. Big guy, you get the vegetable ready to move."

Rochelle crouched down and met the helping hands of the medical staff reaching up to help her. She jumped down and made it safely into the hospital. Ellis crouched down, too. He hesitated at another cable snapping. The elevator groaned again.

"Go!" the doctor ordered. Ellis rolled out and fell on top of a male nurse. Everyone below steadied Ellis and reached up again for Nick. The elevator shuddered ominously as they pushed his legs out. Blood dripped onto the white tile like spilled punch. Ellis watched everyone around him move in to help while he was placed on a stretcher. He tried to sit up, but a nurse pushed him back down. Ellis noticed both nurses and patients running towards the elevator. Some were older survivors covered in scars, other were younger and dressed in white clothing.

Nick finally fully emerged and was placed onto another stretcher. His oxygen mask was replaced and he was wheeled away from the elevator.

"Hurry, the elevator's gonna give!" Ellis cried.

Coach jumped out and fell to one knee. He turned to help the doctor, who leapt into his arms as the cable snapped. The elevator disappear down the shaft and crashed at the bottom.

"Are you alright?" the nurse asked Doctor Bixon. He rolled his shoulders and ran up to Nick. He pulled the blood cards from his coat and compared them.

"I'm fine. Get a suture team on this in ICU and... bring the kid with us. Prep him for surgery. Leave the others here, call in Doctor Lambay."

And everything was back to full speed. Nick and Ellis were wheeled down another hallway towards a more quiet part of the hospital. The medical team barked orders to each other as they rushed past other patients in their rooms. A little girl was whisked out of the way.

"Why am I comin', too, Doc?" Ellis asked.

"We're fixing your arm, what else?" the doctor growled.

Ellis still wasn't sure. He wasn't dying. He was a little dizzy from the pain in his arm, but that was about it.

"How much blood did you lose before the chopper got you?"

"What?"

"How long had you been bleeding? Hurry up!"

"Uh, since las' night. I shot mahself."

"Fuck."

"Why?"

"Shut up."

They turned a corner into an impeccably clean room cluttered with machines and wires. Nick was wheeled to one side of the room and was instantly swarmed by nurses. Some were stitching his leg, some were hooking him up to bags of medicine, and some undressed him. Doctor Bixon wheeled Ellis to the other side of the room and grabbed the arm of a woman.

"Diane," he panted, "go get me the dialysis machine from the storage room down the hall."

"Sir, we are prohibited from using – "

"Do you work for me or for those suit-wearing fuck-ups?"

The tension built around the two. Ellis looked between them to Nick, who was completely blocked from sight by the bustling medics.

"I work for you, sir..."

"Then go get me that fucking machine."

The doctor shoved the nurse towards the door. She stumbled, but didn't look back as she ran into the hallway.

"Listen up, kid," the doctor whispered. He leaned in close. Ellis smelled the toothpaste on his breath. "I need your blood."

Ellis blinked and looked up in pain and confusion.

"I need your blood to save your friend. Otherwise, he's gonna die."

The mechanic had a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"I don' think I have much left."

"It won't be enough, but it'll give him a chance. I'll get another donor somewhere, but some of yours should help."

Ellis looked over at Nick's body, naked and pale and bloody. There were wires and tubes everywhere around him, whether they were attached to needles or stickers.

Sounds quieted within Ellis' head as if he were underwater. Nick's last words rang clear in his head as the kid weakly kept his eyes on the ceiling.

_"Maybe...it wasn't a mistake..."_

Ellis squeezed his eyes shut.

_"Maybe... I was too selfish to...realize that...there are more...people in this world...than me..."_

Something leaked through Nick's voice in his words. It was a subtle difference that separated Nick's sarcasm with genuine heartfelt speech. Surely, he meant them. There was one thing true about the conman, after all – he was always painfully honest.

"Do it," Ellis ordered. The doctor's mouth twitched into a smile. "Take as much as you can without killin' me."

The doctor's words never made it to Ellis' ears. He just stared at the ceiling, a broken arm against his chest with another one holding it. He let his mind go slowly, traveling back one month...

It was too stormy to go outside that night. The survivors were forced to spend an entire twenty-four hours sitting around trying to keep warm rather than running back to Virgil. Nick's temper had been worse than usual and Ellis' optimism was wearing thin.

"Hey, Nick," Ellis had said, "mind tellin' me why you're so... uptight?"

"Fuck off, sport," he had replied. "I'm always uptight."

Ellis had offered to do anything to lighten the mood. Turns out all Nick really wanted was something to relieve his mind from the storm outside. He also needed to get his rocks off. Little did Ellis know that Nick was looking for something a little outside of his idea of "helping out."

"Let me fuck you, then."

That's what he had said. It was blunt, aggressive, and straight to the point. At the time, Ellis wasn't sure what to think.

"One-time deal, kiddo. I get off, I feel better, you feel better, and we'll never look back on it. We'll pretend it never happened."

"Isn't that a little desperate?" Ellis had asked. "Nick, I'm a guy, you're a guy..."

"Don't remind me. I'm not gay. Far from it. But you said you'd do anything to help."

"Yeah, but... why? I mean... couldn't you jus'... do it yerself if you wanna?"

Nick had looked at him with an are-you-fucking-stupid-look. "What, masturbate with you or Coach around all the time? You think I have time for that? You think it's the same as the real deal?"

"No, I didn't say that, but – "

"Are you gonna help me or not?"

Ellis had been cornered. And the strange thing was... he wanted to. He wanted to help Nick, as... wrong as it was. Sure, he looked up to Nick admirably and he tried his hardest to get a reaction from him. And he would never admit to... fantasizing about him whenever he could. This was his chance. He'd do what he was told – pretend like nothing ever happened, move on with his life, and do his job of killing zombies. Done and done.

"I'll do it."

It only lasted a few minutes, and it caused Ellis a great deal of pain, but did he care? No. There was something else there. What was it?

Over the next few weeks, Nick would turn into a different guy; he'd help Ellis up when he was down, heal him even when he had his own health kit, and make sure he was always accounted for. Ellis wasn't stupid. He knew Nick wouldn't be able to get over it. Truth be told, Ellis wouldn't be able to, either. Especially after Nick said all those things through his lethargy on the chopper so only the mechanic could hear him... what was Nick trying to tell him? What was happening...?

Ellis' mind fogged. Where was he? What was his name?

He peeled his tired eyes open at the prick of a needle. He turned his head and saw the oxygen mask over his own mouth. He breathed in the clean oxygen weakly. Nick was being manually pumped air out of an artificial resuscitator. The doctor squeezed the bag rhythmically, trying to help Nick in any way he could. Nick had a new tube attached to his arm that ran into an unfamiliar machine. Within that tube was dark red blood.

On the other side of the machine was another tube leading into Ellis. It took Ellis a minute to figure it out...

He was giving Nick his blood. His precious battery juice was slowly flowing out of him, into this machine, and into Nick. His arm looked less pale, but it wasn't enough, yet.

"He's in cardiac arrest. Give me some paddles!"

Ellis felt dizzy. It seemed like a dream. He watched Nick bounce on the stretcher after he was zapped with the defibrillator once, twice, three times.

"Clear!"

Nothing.

"Clear!"

Nothing.

"Clear!"

Nothing.

Ellis tried to focus on the action. The edges of his eyesight grew dark and blurry. He was so tired...

He blinked. That's all he did. He slowly shut his tired eyes and opened them. He must've fallen asleep or passed out, because he instantly felt cleaner and there wasn't any noise around him.

He was in a different room. There was a large light above him and another doctor getting surgical tools ready. Ellis' old clothes had been removed and replaced with medical scrubs.

"Where...?" Ellis slurred.

"Hey, there. My name's Doctor Lambay. What's yours?"

The woman looked down at Ellis with a smile as she placed her face mask over her mouth. Nurses were putting gloves on each other, checking Ellis' heart monitor.

"El – Ellis..."

"Hello, Ellis. You're safe, now. I'm going to fix your arm for you, okay? But you need to stay calm... you've lost a lot of blood when you got rescued."

"Nick?" Ellis asked.

"Nicolas is stable, Ellis. It's a miracle, but he's breathing on his own. He'll be in ICU for a while."

"He's... okay?"

"He's breathing normally and his heart was successfully revived. We won't know what the other damage is before he wakes up. But let's focus on you now. Everything will be alright, okay?"

Ellis blinked in response, the corners of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. Doctor Lambay grabbed the gas mask and placed it over Ellis' mouth and nose.

"Count backwards from ten."

"Ten..."

Nick was okay.

"...nine..."

That's all that mattered.

"...eight..."

Right?


	3. Breaking the Rules

His heart monitor beeped rhythmically, sending a mesmerizing tempo throughout the white room. Doctor Bixon stared at the v-shaped pulses blink onto the screen, disappear, and reappear right on cue. The man's chest rose and fell, momentarily fogging the silicon around his mouth with his calm breaths. To an outsider, the man looked like he was merely resting. To the doctor who saved his life, he looked like a corpse wheezing into an oxygen mask.

Ryan Bixon, sitting in an old office chair, leaned over and placed his head in his hands. He rubbed his hazel eyes as someone opened the door and closed it behind them. He looked over his shoulder, relieved to see his partner in medicine, Doctor Lambay, approach him. Her lab coat brushed against the back of her legs, disrupting the heart monitor's spell.

"Ryan..."

The woman placed her hands on his shoulders and rubbed them reassuringly. She brought her face close to the side of his head and sighed.

"You need to eat."

Ryan shifted in his seat into Doctor Lambay's touch.

"Mmm."

Ryan rolled his shoulders and yawned.

"I'm fine," Ryan mumbled. He lazily laid his head against Doctor Lambay's cheek, breathing in the scent of her tied-up brown hair.

"You haven't eaten or slept for two days, now. You don't need a doctor to tell you that that's not healthy. C'mon, I'll watch over these guys for you."

"No, Alice. I can't leave these two. Not with CEDA always hovering nearby."

Leaving anybody in ICU without supervision was foolish, especially with CEDA in the same building. It didn't help that they kept sending agents to peek through the window. Alice knew that Ryan detested CEDA enough as it was. She was usually the ring-leader – she had to pull Ryan away from CEDA's puppets many times. Usually, his fists would be swinging.

Alice looked up and away from Ryan's cheek; she adverted her gaze to the two patients, both adorning hospital garb. One was breathing into an oxygen mask. The other was breathing from a tube that was inserted into his airway. Ryan watched Alice leave his shoulders and approach the younger patient. She checked his IV drip and his heart monitor before grabbing two latex gloves. She wiggled her small hands into them and flexed her fingers as she looked at Ellis' intubator pump air into his lungs. She pulled a stool over and sat down, readying herself with antiseptic wipes and new bandages.

Ryan watched with intrigue as Alice bent over Ellis' still body. He noticed how small she was; so skinny and fit. It was a contrast to his semi-muscular frame. She had tiny hands that worked rather skillfully. Her face was free of wrinkles or blemishes, but she wasn't too young for Ryan's tastes; twenty-six and still gorgeous. She glanced over with her violet eyes and raised her eyebrows.

"Ryan?"

"Just looking..."

Alice sat up, disappointed. "Ryan..."

"I know, I know, I'm stopping."

Ryan pushed himself up and grabbed two gloves for himself. He pulled them on and posted himself on the other patient. Alice returned her attention to Ellis, smiling.

"Does Nick need another IV bag?" Alice asked as she untied the sling holding Ellis' arm against his chest. She untied the yellow and red splotched bandages and started to unravel them. Ryan looked up to Nick's fluids and shook his head.

He pulled Nick's blankets from his body to his feet and pulled up his gown. His bandaged thigh had no blood showing through; a good sign. Alice, however, cursed and covered her nose with her wrist. She squinted in disgust.

"It's getting worse," she choked.

Ellis' tattooed arm was covered in slimy puss, oozing from the long incision Alice had made the week before. She threw the bandages into the biohazard-waste bin and cleaned the undamaged skin before moving to the injury. She started to clean it, rolling his arm this way and that to examine it.

"This is really bad, Ryan."

"Load him up with antibiotics, then."

Alice growled quietly. "It's not that easy, Ryan. We have a limited supply."

Ryan bit his tongue. He would have bluntly responded with a 'So?' but that wouldn't have ended well.

"And this, this isn't the first thing about the kid that's confusing me."

Ryan looked up at Alice for a moment. "...Oh?"

"I opened him up and there was less blood than there should have been."

Ryan fumbled with the scissors he was using to cut away Nick's gauze. He stabled his hand; kept his cool. He breathed deeply, but got the stomach-churning scent of Ellis' oozy puss in his nose. Thankfully, Alice had more to say.

"And the bone I had to fix was missing a piece. I dug around for it, looked for it, felt for it, and I couldn't find it."

Ryan couldn't relax.

"That's strange."

Ryan's shoulders eased the tension a little as Alice went quiet. He was in the clear. She had no idea that Ellis underwent a direct blood transfusion to save Nick. And it would stay that way.

Alice stopped working altogether. Ryan looked up as he pulled some gauze away from Nick's thigh and walked over to the waste bin. He stopped and returned her stare, feeling uneasy at her scrutinizing blue eyes.

"This is where you're supposed to add your opinion," she stated. She tossed another yellow, soiled cloth into the garbage. Ryan dropped Nick's old bandages on top of it. He started to walk back to Nick, grabbing new gauze along the way. He tossed it from one hand to another, thinking.

"Ellis told me beforehand that he was shot. Considering that the bone snapped so easily when he fell in the elevator, I'm guessing that the bullet caught the bone, chipped it, and he pulled it out. There."

Done and done.

Ryan smiled as he freed Nick's leg of the rest of the bandages. There was no infection. The skin was pink around the slashes and the dozens of stitches held the flesh together reliably. All the doctor had to do was reapply the new gauze. Thankfully, Alice didn't see, sparing Ryan another glare of jealousy.

There was a knock at the door. Alice looked to it as she wrapped Ellis' arm. Ryan pulled off his gloves, covered Nick with his blue blankets, and opened the door just enough to see who was waiting outside.

"Hey, Ryan! Brought you something."

Ryan didn't like Diane. The nurse was hopelessly flirty in an annoying, stalker-ish way. She always had her bleached hair messed up in what she liked to call 'sexy beach curls'. Ryan liked to call it a 'crusty crimp' in his head. She wore a nurse's uniform that was too tight. She always had too much gum in her mouth so she sounded like she was a suffocating, grunting pig whenever she came near. Ryan's back shivered in anger when he thought about Diane taking her time getting the dialysis machine. Little things tended to bug Ryan. Diane was full of them.

Ryan pulled a strained smile over his face and stepped aside to allow the nurse in. She pulled a trolley into the room. Ryan looked into the hallway. On one end of the hallway, patients wobbled around. They greeted each other. Some were helping other limp around. One was holding a baby. On the other end of the hallway, it was deserted. Footsteps echoed around the corner. Ryan blinked. He could have sworn that the hallway was getting longer.

The footsteps came closer. Ryan couldn't help but keep his eyes fixed on the end of the hallway to see who would turn that corner. A CEDA agent marched around the corner, bee-lining his way to Ryan. Abdomen clenching and heart hammering, Ryan slammed the door, locked it, and pulled the blinds shut on both the window and the door. Both Diane and Alice jumped.

The agent's shadow appeared on the other side of the blinds like a gray demon. He stopped and turned as if he were looking into the room, even with the blinds down. Ryan clenched his jaw.

"They're vultures, I tell yah."

Diane laughed loudly (to Ryan's disgust) and pushed the trolley to the side of the room. She opened the cabinet on the side. She pulled out two plates covered to keep the contents fresh.

"Instant mashed potatoes and beef jerky with canned beans; today's roast beef dinner." Diane laughed at her own joke, snapping the gum in her mouth loudly.

Ryan took the plate from Diane and shot a look at Alice.

"What?" she asked as she took her own plate. "I was going to get you to eat sooner or later."

"Sneaky. Thanks."

Ryan removed the plastic cover and tossed it back to Diane. She fumbled with it. It bumped her in the forehead.

"Ryan!" she squealed. She laughed again. Even Alice glanced over, eyebrows raised. Ryan caught her eye and shrugged. Alice winked.

Ryan gnawed at the tough, dry meat with a smile as Alice started to use hers as a spoon for her potatoes. Diane walked over to Nick and stared at his heart monitor, smacking her gum loudly.

"How are they?" Diane asked through her struggling mouth. "Have they woken up yet?"

"Not at all," Alice replied. "Nick, the older one, only breathes. With Ellis, it's a bit different. We had him under in an induced coma because the infection is so bad. It got to his lungs before we could get our hands on any antibiotics."

Ryan looked over at Alice. "I gave him the counter-medication a while ago so he should be waking up in the next few hours."

"You got the infection under control?" Diane asked.

Alice slowed her chewing, swallowed, and licked her lips. "...No, not exactly. We have to take him off it because we ran out of supply yesterday. We won't have another shipment until we hear back from Canada. And it has to be flown all the way over here so it's easier to just wake him up and hope for the best."

There was a moment of silence as Alice nibbled at her beef jerky, obviously upset.

Diane motioned to Nick as she snapped her gum again. Ryan twitched.

"Any heart problems?" she asked.

"With Nick? Not after we brought him in."

"So that thing worked?"

Ryan stopped eating. Alice swallowed and looked up. Diane's face fell.

"You know, the thing with the dialysis machine? ...Was I not supposed to say anything?"

Ryan shut his eyes. Fuck you, Diane.

"What's she talking about, Ryan?" Alice asked. When Ryan didn't respond, she looked to Diane. She bent under the stare and opened her mouth.

"Well, Doctor Bixon, he, umm..."

Alice rubbed her forehead and glared at Ryan, her bad mood getting worse.

"What did you do?" she asked firmly. Ryan turned to Alice. All the work he did to cover his tracks flittered away, exposing his lies in an instant.

"When I brought Nick down here, he was running on nothing; no blood, nothing. Out of the survivors that were with him... Ellis was the only one who could give him blood."

Alice tried to speak a few times, but was so dumbfounded that she couldn't find her voice.

"Ryan," whispered, "if you're telling me that you gave Ellis' blood to Nick, I swear I'll –"

"That is exactly what I'm telling you, Alice. I did what I had to."

Alice put her plate on the counter and stood up. Ryan avoided eye contact the best he could. Diane's constant chewing and smacking disappeared.

Alice rubbed her face, her hair askew.

"So I performed surgery on someone when they had no blood to recover?"

"I left the machine running longer than I had initially wanted..."

"You weren't supposed to use it to begin with!" she shouted. Ryan tensed at the sound.

"I had to save Nick."

Alice scoffed loudly. "Good job. You did. Now I have to save Ellis! How? How am I supposed to do that? He has an infection raging through his blood stream that I can't stop! He can't have morphine and he can't stay asleep! He almost died on the table and it wouldn't have happened if you'd have told me! Fuck, Ryan, what next? You gonna give somebody a kidney? A liver? We can't do that!"

Alice's face was red with anger, her hands balled into fists.

"Alice, I didn't tell you because this would happen. Yeah, I break rules so I can save a few more lives. You know, it wouldn't hurt if you did the same."

Alice went stiff, tears springing up to her eyes.

"You know what? Fuck you."

Ryan caught his breath. He hit a nerve; the one nerve he thought he never would.

"Wait, I didn't mean –"

"No, I don't wanna hear it, asshole."

Alice turned to the door and started to walk to it. Ryan reached out to stop her, but she turned around.

"Oh, and you know what? You can deal with Ellis. Leave me out it. I'm sure you're more than capable."

Alice opened the door and disappeared down the hallway, stopping long enough to flip the bird at the CEDA agent waiting outside. The man didn't even react.

"Wait here," Ryan ordered Diane. She nodded as Ryan ran out of the room, calling out Alice's name.

Diane gulped as she heard Alice yelling at Ryan without considering the patients around her. Everyone disappeared into their room or stood by a window. Diane kept looking after them, but she couldn't see them after Ryan pulled the two of them into a room.

"Everything alright, ma'am?"

Diane spun around at the CEDA agent's question. Her mouth went dry.

"Maybe we should come in. We need to –"

"No."

"Please be advised that we have an obligation to –"

Diane shook her head. "No."

Diane shut the door and locked it. She backed away from the door and watched the agent's shadow shift and move. When the agent was gone, Diane relaxed a little bit.

She turned and looked at the patients. She bit her lips, crossed her arms, and bounced a little. After a while, she started humming. She chewed through her gum in boredom until she peeked over to Alice's abandoned plate on the counter. She looked away quickly. Slowly, she returned her gaze to the food. She looked over her shoulder in spite of herself and walked to the counter. She grabbed a chunk of the half-eaten meat with one hand and pulled the wad of slimy gum out of her mouth with the other. She shoved the meat in her mouth and chewed it savagely.

The doctors only got meat. It was a rare delicacy these days and since there wasn't a real money system at the moment, they got paid with food. Nurses sometimes got nibbles of meat but mostly had to settle for rice, potatoes, and anything canned; served cold with water.

Diane finished the meat and ate everything else on the plate, swallowing loudly as she did so. When she saw Doctor Bixon's plate, she gobbled up every morsel on it. After she swallowed, she shoved the stale gum back into her mouth and kept chewing. It kept her from being hungry all the time.

Maybe, just maybe, if Diane could get her hands on something of value, she could bribe the cafeteria worker to give her some more beef jerky. Maybe even some hair gel. Stealing from the ICU room was perfect – so many machines with valuable wires in them; medicines exclusively for ICU patients always had a good price to it; even hand sanitizer was worth gold. Shortages called for restocking. Why call to Canada for morphine when they keep a supply in here?

Diane quietly crept over to the counter beside Ellis' bed and opened the drawer. She grabbed whatever she could. She didn't read any of the names on the vials of medicine before she stuffed them into her pockets, bra, panties, even her shoes. She left some behind to make it look like she hadn't been stealing and shut the cabinet.

Neither of the doctors came back so Diane went over to Nick's side. His cabinet was in between Nick's bed and Ellis' bed and was standing over wires connecting to both men. Diane opened the cupboard after shoving tubes and wires out of the way (disorganization in an apocalyptic hospital was normal), she grabbed more medicine. She closed it when she was finished pilfering and stood up. She adjusted her clothing to hide the bulges of objects.

Something glinted in the corner of her eye. She looked to it and her eyes lit up.

On Nick's hands were a total of three golden rings.

Licking her lips, Diane lifted one of Nick's hands and inspected it. She grabbed a ring between her index finger and her thumb and pulled it off after using some force. She rubbed it on her uniform to remove her greasy fingerprints and looked on the inside. She gasped when she read the '24k' on the inside of the band. She looked to the door before she dropped the ring between her breasts. She leaned over Nick's body to grab his other hand. She grabbed another ring and started to tug on it. It held firmly. It was tighter than the first one.

She heaved on the ring. Her hand slipped and flew back. She stumbled, feeling something snag on her uniform's pocket. She looked down to see what it was just as she grabbed Nick's hand again.

Her uniform had snagged on Nick's IV. The long needle taped to his skin to keep it stable had ripped out, send blood pooling out and onto his blankets.

"Shit," Diane muttered. She look to his hand and tried to pull the rings off as fast as she could.

Suddenly, Nick's arm shot out from under Diane's grip. His eyes snapped open as he grabbed the nurse around the throat. Diane screamed and tried to pull back, but the conman's grip tightened around her thin neck.

"GET OFF!" he screamed. His hands tightened around her neck. Diane struggled against his hold. She hip-checked the medical cabinet. The tubes attached to Nick and Ellis snapped and broke off. Both heart monitors started squealing maniacally.

"Where the FUCK am I?" Nick yelled. Diane wriggled against Nick, trying to force out a scream.

Nick looked past Diane and saw Ellis. He looked back to Diane, squeezing harder.

"What did you do to him? WHAT DID YOU DO?"

"N-nothing!" Diane choked.

Nick tried to squeeze the life out of Diane, rage pulsing through his arms to his hands.

Diane threw her hands up, trying to hit Nick's face. Her short arms couldn't reach, so she landed a blow on Nick's thigh.

Nick screamed in pain, releasing Diane's throat. She fell to the floor. A series of popping noises sounded through the room. Diane shrieked in pain as blood and medicine started to seep through her uniform. She scratched at her skin, glass shards embedded in her flesh.

Nick grabbed his chest as pain pulsed from his thigh to his chest. He pulled on the bedside railing and pushed his legs over the edge of the bed.

The door to the room swung open. Doctor Bixon barged in without a moment's hesitation.

"Get me some nurses!" he shouted. Footsteps clicked and clacked in the hallway as more personnel ran to help.

"Nick, lie down," Ryan ordered. He grabbed Nick's shoulders and pushed him down onto the mattress.

"Get the fuck off me! Don't touch me!"

Nurses ran in. Some gasped, some groaned, and some froze. Diane, sobbing on the floor, tried to roll over onto her hands and knees.

"Get her the fuck outta here and lock her in a room!" Ryan ordered. Nurses grabbed Diane and wrenched her up. She howled in pain as they dragged her out of the room and into the hallway.

"Doctor, Ellis isn't breathing!" one of the nurses cried. She looked at the intubator's monitor, looking for a switch.

"Shit!" Ryan spat. "Grab him!"

Ryan let go of Nick, replaced with two other nurses. Nick swung his arm up and landed a punch on somebody's cheek. They grunted in pain. Nick pushed the nurses away, but couldn't get himself off the mattress before they grabbed him again.

"Tie him down!" Ryan shouted as he shoved the nurse away from Ellis' monitor. "Find the plug to this damn thing!"

"Ellis!" Nick shouted. Five nurses were on the conman, holding down his arm and legs while one buckled him to the bed frame. "Don't touch him! Get off me! I'll fucking kill you!"

"Get that guy some more morphine and another IV drip. Stitch up his hand! And where is the fucking plug?"

Nick pulled against his restraints. "I'll kill you! I'll kill you all!"

"Shut him up!" Ryan barked. He jumped over Ellis' legs and landed on the other side of his bed. He grabbed the medical cabinet between the two beds and lifted it off the ground. He hurled it behind him without another word and found the broken tubes. The worn plug on the machine was severed completely, sawed in half by the sharp legs of the medical cabinet.

"Fucker!' Ryan yelled. "Miles, get me another intubator!"

"From where?" the nurse asked.

"I don't fucking care!" the doctor screamed. He stood up and started to unbuckled the contraption holding the tube in Ellis' airway. He disconnected the tube, and replaced it with a breathing bag secured to the tube leading to Ellis' lungs. He started squeezing it, looking up at his heart monitor. All Nick could think of was what the fuckers in this place did to him to get him like that in the first place.

A hand shot over Nick's mouth. He opened it to scream when a pill fell into his mouth, dissolving as he choked it down.

His vision blurred, the taste of the pill lingering on his tongue. His eyes felt heavy. He was breathing heavily, too weak to make a sound.

"We're losing him!" Ryan growled. "Where the fuck is that intubator?"

Nick forced his eyes open, shaking his head awake. He shot up, feeling his arms holding him back against the bed.

"Let me go!" he yelled. "Don't touch him! Let me go!"

Ryan looked over his shoulder. "I thought I told you guys to shut him up!"

Nick pulled even harder, especially after he felt the nurses push against his chest again. His heart hammered in his head, pain flourishing in his breast. He grimaced and grunted, curling over as his heart continued to pang with pain. The nurses pushed him back down. Nick, fighting against the pain, tried yet again to get up.

"We gave him Lorazepam already, Ryan. It should work soon."

"Soon is not now. Give him more before he gives himself a heart attack!"

Nick gasped as the pain got worse. He fell on the mattress, wheezing. He left his mouth open to suck in more air. Another pill was shoved into it. He choked again, trying to get it to the tip of his tongue so he could spit it out. It turned into mush on his tongue instead, falling into his throat with his saliva. The hand left his mouth. He gasped and coughed. He weakly pulled his feet against the belts as Miles ran in with another intubator machine.

"I found it in a room, but it's not sterile at all."

"Really, dumbass?" Ryan asked. He removed the breathing bag from Ellis and grabbed the machine's tube, screwing it on. "You think he's gonna care?"

Ryan snatched the power cord from Miles and slammed it into the socket. It blinked on and air started pumping, but Ellis' heart monitor kept squealing. Ryan stared at the monitor, then jumped as Ellis's chest convulsed. The hick's eyebrows furrowed after his chest heaved again.

"What are you doing?" Nick yelled as he fought weakly against the nurses. His knuckles went white as he pulled his arms against the belts. Miles, another pill in hand, slammed his fist into Nick's mouth, forcing the sedative down his throat.

"Turn him over, quick!"

Ryan, with the assistance from two other nurses, pulled Ellis onto his side. He kept coughing into the intubator, his whole body seizing up. His legs moved over the mattress slowly. Nick looked over, the effects of the drugs finally taking control. He kept struggling against his restraints.

Ryan grabbed the mouthpiece holding the intubator in place and unclipped it. He pulled the tube out of his mouth, shaking his head.

"Kid's breathing on his own," he muttered. "Perfect timing."

Ryan threw the tube onto the floor, still squatting to meet levels with his patient. Suddenly, Ellis threw up over the bed and onto Ryan's pants. Anyone who was watching groaned in disgust. Ryan stood up and felt Ellis' forehead, wrinkling his nose in anger.

"He's too hot. You two, cool him down. You, clean up the floor. And you, go get another bag of antibiotics. I don't care how you do it, just do it. And someone get me some new pants. Jesus, the guy's lucky he's been out for a week."

Ryan bent over again, resting his hand on Ellis' forehead. Ellis' face twitched with the contact as he spat the rest of the puke out of his mouth with little to no effort.

"Ellis," he said gently. "Ellis, open your eyes for me."

Ellis panted quietly, his breaths hoarse.

"C'mon, kid."

Nick, forcing his body up one last time, looked over to Ellis.

"Ellis."

Ellis's eyes opened at Nick's voice. He looked past the doctor in front of him and saw Nick barely staying awake, his wrists pinned to the bed.

"Nnniii..." Ellis slurred. He lifted his bad arm and tried to reach out to the conman, rolling closer to the edge of the bed. The doctor grabbed his arm and eased it back to his chest. He rolled Ellis onto his back.

"Hey now, you stay in bed."

Ellis' faced twisted into discomfort as his lungs sucked in pathetic puffs of air, his stomach churning.

"Welcome back. You remember me?"

Ellis stared at the doctor, panting against the heat raging through him.

"B-Bixonnnn..." he wheezed. "You took my blood... you gave it to him... you gave it to him..."

"You have a major infection; we've kept you in an induced coma for a week, but we can't keep you on it any longer. You're going to feel some pain for the next few days while I try to save your arm, alright?"

"Pain?" Ellis asked. Nick, exhausted, felt his head rest on his pillow.

"Yes. But you're safe now. And so is Nick. Hang tight."

"Niiick..."

Nick saw Ellis turn his head, his bloodshot eyes meeting his.

Nick didn't realise everyone leave. He stared at Ellis while most of the nurses left. Miles stayed behind, mopping the floor and taking out the trash. Ryan walked in with some vials of medicine to replace the ones that Diane had damaged.

"Nick's not asleep... are you sure it was Lorazepam you gave him?"

"Positive. We gave him enough to tranquilize a cow. He just keeps fighting off sleep."

Ryan looked over to Nick, who was still staring at Ellis. He wondered what they would say if they could do more than just stare at each other. What would they say? What could they possibly say to each other?

He stared at the floor silently for a moment. He turned to the door and opened it.

"I'll be right back. I'm going to see Alice. Make sure both of them have some morphine and antibiotics. Not too much; we're running low on everything and Canada hasn't gotten back to us, yet."

"Yes, sir."

Ryan stepped out and bee-lined it down the hallway, smirking at the sound of Diane sobbing in another room. Lucky for her, she managed to get penicillin under her skin. Having an allergy to it, her whole body was covered in hives. Good.

But when Ryan walked out and when Miles went to the bathroom, the CEDA agent rounded the corner and peeked in between the blinds and the window frame into the room. He stared at Nick, who had fallen asleep. He grinned maliciously and cracked his knuckles, one word flying through his head.

Jackpot.


	4. Breaking the Silence

Ellis looked upon Nick's sleeping face as the doctor started to replace his bandages. He was almost unrecognizable; the wrinkles on his forehead were relaxed and his thin lips were slightly parted. He was breathing smoothly, unlike Ellis' breaths which were croaky and strained. His wrists and ankles had been freed of the leather straps, but they were bruising slightly. He'd been awake on and off, but never long enough to keep him awake.

"Ellis?"

Ellis' eyes looked up to the doctor. He was staring back, worried.

"I asked if you were feeling okay."

"What?" he asked. "Oh, yeah… no, I feel kinda sick."

Ryan reached behind himself and grabbed a bedpan. He set it on Ellis' chest.

"If you get sick, aim for that."

"Alright."

Ellis didn't know how long Nick had been down for. It was a couple days, at least. Maybe even a week.

On the first night after Nick subdued, Ellis underwent another surgery. Alice had installed a metal plate to help his arm heal, but his body was rejecting it substantially. Ryan went in and replaced it the best he could, removing the dead flesh around it and sewing him up meticulously. The infection in his arm went down after that, but it had already infected his blood stream and had already spread to this lungs. He always had a fever of over one-hundred and he was restricted to a nasal tube to help him breathe.

Ryan put Ellis on an intensive regime of antibiotics two days after the sudden surgery. He was given solid food, and he was starting to actually hold it down today. Ryan told Ellis that if there was nothing worrisome with his vitals, he could try walking.

Ryan revealed the flesh from under the gauze and smiled.

"It looks much better today, buddy."

Ellis followed the stitches up and down his bicep. He frowned.

"I spent a lot on that tattoo," he muttered. "You think it'll be all fucked up after this?"

Doctor Bixon twisted his mouth in thought. "It'll scar a little, and it might warp a little, but I guess that's a small price to pay for something like this, huh? I wouldn't be too worried about it."

Ryan stood up.

"I have to go check in with the pharmacy downstairs. You okay for a bit? When I come back, we'll try to get you standing. I'm hoping Nick wakes up today for a while. He woke up last night for a while, but he fell asleep again right away. We need to get this room cleared out for any other survivors. We'll move you two into a different room, that's all I can guarantee."

"Okay."

Ryan nodded and exited the room without another word.

Ellis winced at the silence surrounding him after the door slammed shut. There was nothing but the hum of the oxygen machines running and the heart monitors quietly buzzing. Two weeks ago, he was out in the semi-deserted world, fighting his way through hordes of infected, big and small. Everywhere he turned, gunshots would ring out through the streets. Bombs, bullets, blood… everything made a noise. Now, the silence was more unnerving than anything the mechanic had experienced in the past two weeks.

Ellis looked at Nick again, running his tongue over his dry lips. He almost forgot that he was breathing into an oxygen mask. He sucked in some of the cool air and kept his eyes fixed on the conman.

"Nick?" Ellis asked. Nothing. The silence pounced in as Ellis closed his mouth. He felt his neck tense as the silence teased his ears.

Ellis lifted his good arm and grabbed a bedrail. He tightened his grips, his sore muscles slightly stiffening. Holding his other arm close to his chest, Ellis heaved himself up into a sitting position. The bedpan fell into his lap as he bent his knees. He kept his eyes closed, breathing deeply and slowly. Reaching over the rail, Ellis felt for the latch that would lower the rail caging him in. He grasped it and pushed it down. The rail slowly collapsed on itself. Ellis swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his toes pointed towards Nick. His bare feet felt the cold tile, shocking his senses. He grabbed his IV tower and slowly shifted his weight into his legs. He straightened his legs and his back, unused to the feeling of not having his coveralls wrapped around his hips.

He took another deep breath and took a step, using his IV as a staff. He made it three gruelling steps before he felt dizzy. He quickly grabbed Nick's bed and pushed the bedrail down before his knees gave out. He slowly turned around. He eased himself onto the mattress, exhausted from his short journey. Nick didn't stir.

"Nick…."

Ellis lifted his hand and let it hover over Nick's rising chest. He drew it back after a moment. He swallowed and parted his lips. He sucked in his bottom lip and sucked on it, running his tired eyes over Nick's face. After being pulled out of action so abruptly, Nick's face healed immensely; the bruises were gone, the scratch on his forehead was nothing but a small pink mark, and the bags under his eyes were no more. His hair was clean and shiny, but still smoothed back. The dirty suit he was so proud of was in a box on the other side of the room, replaced with a hospital gown that was hanging low on his chest, showing the groove between his pectoral muscles. Ellis looked at the scars on the right side of his chest that used to be open and scabbed. His arms were chiselled and free of blemishes.

Ellis tore his gaze away and looked to his lap sheepishly.

"I dunno if you're awake or whatever…"

Ellis leaned back, feeling the small of his back graze against Nick's hip. Ellis closed his eyes.

"I think it's been two weeks, give or take a day," Ellis began. "Since we came here, I mean."

Instantly, Ellis felt comfort in the sound of his voice. He took another breath before continuing.

"Y'know, when you stayed behind to fight that Tank to buy the rest of us extra time, I thought that was the last thing I'd see yah do. I dunno if y'all remember, but you did kill that thing by yourself. I couldn't see it very well, but it looked like yah stabbed it in the face or somethin' with that ninja sword. Then it jus'… backhanded yah.

"For a moment, I got so scared. You were flying through the air like a ragdoll. And when you hit the ground, you got right back up. You… pulled that pouch thing off your thigh and ran like a mad man towards us. When the chopper started leaving, yah jumped. I dunno how I got there so fast, but the next thing I knew, I was holding onto you over the river. Man, I was never so relieved.

"But then there was that damn Hunter. I didn't even hear it, but I guess that was account of the helicopter. Anyway, it grabbed your leg. That's why you're all stitched up. We didn' know yah were so hurt until I was sitting in your blood. I mean, it soaked right through my suit, an' y'all know how thick that fabric is. But we tried our best to stop it. You jus' kept bleedin'… yah jus' kept bleeding."

Ellis hung his head and leaned further back, feeling comfort in the warmth of Nick's skin between their hospital gowns.

"I don' think yah remember much before we landed. You were screaming for a while an' swearin', o' course. But soon yah went quiet. Yah pulled me close to yah an'… an' you… you told me something.

"And you...admitted it...to me...when you said that...there were reasons...beyond your control... when you were saying... why you let me... do that to you... Because...you were telling me...something else...weren't you...? When you said that..."

"That's what you said to me, Nick. An' I thought that that was really the end. That would've sucked, huh? If you called my bluff an' died before I could tell yah?"

Ellis felt his cheeks get wet. He reached back and found Nick's hand. He slowly lifted it over his head and rested it on his lap, wrapping Nick's arm around him.

"…We wheeled yah in as fast as we could. You were in shock at this point. An' the elevator we were in broke. It fuckin' broke! We managed to get everyone out in time, but I broke my arm doin' it. Lemme tell yah, it hurt like a bitch."

Ellis chuckled, looking up at the ceiling. He wiped his eyes again with the back of his hand.

"You looked like shit, though. Ryan, the doctor, said you weren't gonna make it unless we got you some more blood. I was kinda cornered. You and I matched so I let him take it. Did yah know that CEDA won't let anyone transfer blood to each other? I think it's dumb, with all the injuries an' all. But I guess I underestimated how much blood was needed to give you a chance. Ryan told me it almost killed me, but it was the least I could do. Man, it was close. Your heart stopped twice, apparently. So did mine, though, so I guess it's not so bad. It was like that time Coach had that heart attack, remember? We had to use that defib unit on him? Well, this was scarier, seeing it happen to yah.

"But that's why I was so out of shape when you woke up. They put me under to try to give me a better chance, but one of the nurses unplugged the ventilator when you were attacking her. Don' worry, she deserved it. She tried to take your rings, y'know. The doctor gave them back to me so I'll give 'em to yah when yah wake up.

"I remember hearing you screaming my name…"

Ellis choked on his breath and covered his face with his left hand, trying to breathe properly.

"I could only hear yah. Then I couldn't breathe. I know it didn't look like it, but I was trying my hardest to wake up. I did when they tried to force another one of those tubes down my throat. It tasted bad, but I started choking on it. I jus' thought, 'Ellis, man, y'all gotta wake up and let 'im know you're okay.' An' you were jus' staring at me."

Ellis faltered for a moment, sucking in another breath.

"It's weird telling a story without it involving Keith, ain't it?"

Ellis smiled weakly under his hand. He moved his hand down to Nick's arm that he had wrapped around him. He ran his fingers down it slowly. He shifted himself so he was facing Nick.

"Truth is, man… you were right. About me saying something else that night. I know you said you weren't gay or nothin', an' I don' think I am either, but… I dunno…this feels different. I've dated a few girls before the apocalypse, believe it or not, an' I never felt so… out of place. Does that make sense? It frustrates me to no end. I guess I kinda wanted it from you. You were this mysterious guy an' I felt so… I dunno how tuh explain it. I know you wanted it to be a one-time thing an' all, but I'm sure yah can agree with me when I say that it didn't feel like that. I'm sure you didn' get over it, either."

Ellis paused for a moment. He leaned forward so his mouth was over Nick's forehead. He grabbed Nick's hand and pulled it towards his chest. He placed over his heart, letting Nick feel it beat.

"This isn't supposed to be lovin' or nothin'. I'm jus' bein' honest with you."

Ellis rested his forehead on Nick's, his eyes closed and wet.

We've been through Hell, Nick. I jus'… wanted to thank you for getting me here. Just… do me a favour, alright? …Please… jus'…"

Ellis grabbed his chest as he tried to suck in another breath, the impure air itching his lungs. He stopped and slowly panted.

Ellis gave Nick's hand a squeeze as he pulled it up to his mouth, breathing heavily onto the conman's still fingers.

"Shit," Ellis gasped. He got up and staggered to his own bed, grabbing the oxygen mask and sucking the air into himself deeply. He struggled to get back onto his own bed, practically hyperventilating and coughing up heaven-knows-what. Thank God his eyes were closed while he gasped under his mask; otherwise, he would have seen that Nick's eyes were open, staring at the ceiling, and trying so hard not to make a sound.


	5. Wide Awake

Chapter 5

Nick didn't move. He couldn't. And not because of the wires that surrounded him, or his crippled leg, but because Ellis' words weighed him down into the mattress unforgivingly. _I'm sure you didn't get over it, either._

Did he say too much? When the Hunter grabbed his leg, dangling from Ellis' arm over the river as the bridge blew around him; he thought it was the end. As his blood pooled into Ellis' clothes, his leg screaming in pain and his head spinning with every rapid heartbeat, he should be dead. He should be nothing more than a pile of ashes in a box. If he knew he'd be in a quarantined hospital under the care of a rule-breaking bat-shit crazy-determined doctor, Ellis would still be in the dark.

Ellis. Was he even in the room? Nick couldn't remember the last time he heard him stir. But he was okay. Thank whatever deities there were, he was okay. But with that thought came rage. Ellis was supposed to be fine the moment he got onto the helicopter and not a moment later. But he said otherwise. Broken arm, something about blood, hearts stopping… Fuck, what did Ellis do?

Nick forced his eyes open and became dizzy immediately with his oxygen mask so close to his face. His wrists and ankles ached, and a foul taste entered his mouth. Slowly, wincing, he lifted his arm to touch his fingers to his eyes, but his wrist halted. Rough fabric encircled his wrist, and he barely remembered why it was there. He turned his head. He was alone in the room, Ellis' bed clean and made and ready for use.

Nick's heart leapt within his chest. Where was Ellis? Is he… Did he…

No. Ellis was fine. But a lot can change in so little time. Maybe he was in a different room. Or maybe he was…

"If you're looking for Ellis, he's next door."

Nick jumped at the sound and grimaced as his leg shot a twang of pain into his spine. He swore, and using his voice hurt. A doctor had entered and closed the door behind him. He smiled and walked up to Nick's side, grabbing his wrist restraints.

"Ryan Bixon. This isn't the first time we've conversed, but I certainly hope this time 'round will be far more enjoyable than last week."

"What?" Nick croaked.

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "It's normal to not remember much. Do you know where you are?"

Nick glared. "The tubes give it away, Doc."

"I heard you were the sarcastic type. Thank me for saving your leg later."

That, he remembered. The Hunter shrieking and tearing and slicing, blood sticking to skin, breaths too faint to matter…

Ryan finished freeing Nick of his restraints and pressed his foot to the bed control. The upper part of the bed raised Nick's body so he slowly sat up. Nick rotated his wrist, brow furrowed as he stared at the IV drip poking from his hand.

"What did you give me?" he asked.

"Hmm?" Ryan voiced as he removed Nick's blankets. "Oh, just a drug to knock you out. You… really don't remember, do you?"

Nick didn't respond, frustrated at himself for the feeling of familiarity and no recognition to join it.

Ryan sighed and sat on a stool. He placed his elbows on his knees and stared at Nick.

"When we brought you in, we thought we were going to lose you. Not uncommon, mind you. Your friends rolled you in; Ellis had already broken his arm after he tumbled the wrong way."

Nick's shoulders tensed at the thought. That sounded right. That was something Ellis told him.

"A broken arm doesn't call for my type of care…" Nick murmured weakly. "This room… I've seen it and it's for serious things."

Ryan hesitated. "Ellis' arm had contracted a hefty infection and we induced coma for him to have a better chance of fighting it. He lost a lot of blood."

Nick looked up at that comment. Blood.

"But he's recovering and you are, too. So I'm moving you out of ICU in the next few days."

"Wait," Nick exclaimed. "That's it? That's all that happened?"

Ryan stood up and looked uncomfortable. "I fixed you. I fixed Ellis. What more do you need to know?"

Nick sneered and snatched at the doctor's white coat, clutching it and dragging him close to his face.

"What the fuck?!" he cried.

"I don't believe you," Nick growled. "He told me what happened. Even though I can't remember the whole thing, I do remember that there was more to it."

Ryan glared. "And grabbing my clothing, a very rare thing to come by, I may add, is going to help you figure it out? I can put those restraints back on you, but you don't look like the bondage type."

Nick ignored the comment. "I shouldn't be alive."

"Shouldn't you?" Ryan asked. He shoved Nick's hands away and stepped back. "Sorry if it's not what you wanted. But you don't know what Ellis did to make sure you're talking today."

Nick sneered. "What did he do?"

"He didn't give up on you."

Ryan scoffed and checked Nick's fluid bags with an eyebrow raised. Nick tried to move his leg, but the pain halted any movement.

"Is it over?" he asked.

Ryan didn't understand. "Sorry?"

"The things… are they gone?"

Ryan paled and cleared his throat. "No… no, the infection is still rampant. Worse, if you want me to be honest. CEDA has the military surrounding the place and they're bringing in more survivors. You were the last survivors to be brought in."

"Shit. CEDA?"

Ryan sniggered and rolled a cart closer to Nick. He took up a light and shone it into Nick's eyes.

"I have a certain opinion about CEDA. Stay away from them. They… they're trying to find a cure for the infection, and the patients here are their lab rats. At least a dozen survivors… well, long story short, just avoid them. I've done a good job keeping them away from you."

"You don't have to tell me. You don't know what I've seen."

Ryan peered into Nick's ears with a scope. "You found bodies upon bodies of uninfected people. Not surprising. Half our patients are survivors of that."

Nick swallowed and stared off into the distance. "Great. Stuck in a building with a murderous corporation surrounded by zombies and a fucked up leg. Perfect."

"Well, it's the best you're going to get for now. And it's the only free healthcare you're gonna get."

Suddenly, echoes of gunfire sounded through the windows across the hall. Ryan tensed at the sound and looked over his shoulder out the door, but Nick remained stoic. Actually, he relaxed. The gunfire was the only familiar thing he had heard in what felt like eons.

Ryan returned his gaze and forced a smile. He pulled on a pair of latex gloves.

"The military occasionally picks off the odd walker now and then. Nothing to be concerned about."

Nick closed his eyes and let the doctor work. He felt an elastic band surround his bicep, then a cold cloth wipe down the crook of his arm.

"Just a blood sample for our lab – well, what's left of it, anyway. I had a nurse do this for you right after you were stabilized, but in case anything is changed…"

"I'm pretty sure my DNA hasn't changed," Nick murmured sarcastically.

Ryan hesitated. Nick didn't see his eyes rise cautiously. He pulled the vial free and removed the needle from under a cotton ball. "For illness."

Ryan placed a bandage over the prick mark and placed the vial on the cart while he removed his gloves.

The gunfire outside resumed. Ryan looked back again – probably from habit – but when a loud explosion followed it, Ryan ducked and Nick shot up, ignoring the pain for once. The lights flickered for a moment, and then shut down altogether. It must have been late, because no sunlight was outside to help. Ryan was already gone; his white clothes bathed in dull orange light as he rushed into the hallway.

"Get to the ventilators!" he yelled. "No power, no air! I need Alice with me, stat! You three, outside with me. I'm gonna need stretchers!"

Nick threw the blankets off him as the hospital went into a blind panic. Screams echoed down the hallway as Nick grabbed for his IV tower. Another explosion rattled the bed. Nick swung his legs to the floor as bright orange light illuminated the hall long enough for Nick to see a dark figure in the doorway.

It wasn't a nurse.

"What are you?" he asked.

"What the fuck?" Nick whispered.

The fire from outside lit the hall enough for Nick to see the figure dart away.

"Wait!"

Nick threw his weight into the IV tower and onto his good leg. With a growl of pain, Nick dragged himself over the tile flooring away from the bed. He stumbled out the door and collapsed against the window, his leg hurting more than anything he had felt in his life. But nothing could be compared to the chaos outside.

A huge armored bus had crashed through the barrier surrounding the hospital, and was alive with flame. Ryan, Alice, and a clutch of nurses were already outside hauling bodies out of the vehicle as a shower of bullets rained down over the infected that were crawling in. Nick simply stared as people raced behind him with flashlights, clearing out the ICU.

So far, everyone on the bus was dead.

But then, a small body made it onto a stretcher. Alice was on the child immediately, racing over the tarmac back to the protection of the hospital.

Somebody crashed into the frozen gambler, sending him sprawling on the floor. His IV became tangled and the needle tore from his skin.

"Fuck!"

He reached forward, his hand slick with blood, and pulled himself down the hall. He grimaced as his flesh pulled against his wounds, threatening to tear open all over again. If he could just get to the next room…

Someone jumped onto Nick, knocking the air out of him. A hand grabbed at his hair and wrenched back as he tried to breathe the air that was forced from him.

"Where's your doctor now?" the dark figure's voice growled.

"Get off!"

"I don't think so."

The man jumped off Nick and started dragging him down the hallway by his legs. Nick flipped over and saw the man's shirt under the orange light. CEDA's logo jumped out at Nick's face.

Nick kicked at the man, his hospital gown riding up and his skin painfully skidding over the floor. More people rushed into the ICU, Alice's movements quick as the child was wheeled in.

"Hey! HEY!" Nick yelled. Alice didn't notice.

"Those generators will be up soon! Be ready!" she ordered the nurses as she slammed the door shut.

The man laughed as he heaved Nick down the hall. Nick was too exhausted to fight any better, but he tried. .Nick kicked once more with his good leg as they passed the next room. His foot landed against the man's stomach. He fell back.

"Son of a bitch!" he snarled. Nick was already crawling to the window sill to get to his feet.

The man wrapped his arm around Nick's throat, the other holding a cold metal object to his temple. A click rang through Nick's ears.

"That's right, motherfucker," the man growled. "Bet you've heard that before. Make one more move, I swear to god I will blow your brains out right here."

The conman didn't move, but simply struggled to breathe as the man's arm pressed his windpipe further back. His vision started going black and the sounds started to recede from his consciousness. Nick tried to kick, but merely twitched, as if he were a tiny mouse trapped in the coiled body of a hungry snake.

The fight left him just when he felt the man leave his body. It was as if he were never there to begin with. Nick coughed and gasped for breath as he rolled over, his throat burning and his head aching. He stared when he saw where the man went.

The man was suspended in the air, another person holding him off the ground with his arms hooked under the attacker's arm and behind his head. The man was unable to move, and tried to raise his gun, but he was thrown down to the floor. His head cracked against it and he cried out.

Nick couldn't make out the other man; it must have been Ryan. But he stooped over and hauled Nick up as the man tried to make it to his feet. He lugged Nick into the nearest room and placed him on the bed. He turned around to slam the door and lock it just as the man jumped towards him.

Nick didn't completely make it to his senses until he felt a body crawl on top of him.

"Did he hurt you?"

Nick didn't have the right mind to make words. He felt a hand reach down and lift up his gown. He made a move to wriggle away, but gentle fingers ran over his injured thigh. Gentle, yet calloused.

Ellis. His breath smelled the same, and his body trembled ever so slightly against Nick's, as if he was trying too hard not to move. But he was gone as soon as it happened.

"Your stitches must'a tore somewhere; y'all are bleeding again."

Nick couldn't control what happened next. It was as if he was in auto-pilot, and soon, he was off the bed groping the dark. Ellis flicked a match, and a small flame illuminated the room. Nick halted.

Ellis was wearing a large cast around his upper arm, and he'd lost too much weight. His eyes looked a little sunken in and his shoulders were stooped.

But his face was there. It was the same. Those eyes that looked up at him when he was being an annoying asshole and a lifesaver all at once stared back at him. His nose had healed, and his hair had grown slightly.

"Kid?"

Ellis didn't respond. The match had burned down to his fingertips, but he didn't make a move to put it out.

"Jesus!" Nick slapped Ellis' hand, making him drop the match. Whether it was because of the flame eating Ellis' skin, or the fact that Nick didn't want to see Ellis' pale, stricken face. "You wanna light your hand on fire?!"

Nothing.

The pain in Nick's leg was growing, the sirens sounding outside and the shouts of doctors and nurses echoing into the room. Nick reached out and felt around for Ellis, any part of him.

He met him arm and clutched it. He shook hard.

"Ellis! The fuck, kid!"

Ellis sucked in a breath. "You're alive."

"Of course I'm alive! What are you doing?"

Ellis' voice wavered. "That guy… the CEDA guy. What if I wasn't there?"

Nick tried to calm his voice. "You were."

"But…what if I wasn't?"

"Stop it."

"Nick, yah have to hear me… I jus'… I can finally see your face."

And before he could avoid it, Nick listened to Ellis break.

"Whoa, Overalls, hold up."

"You were dead. I saw you dead. Empty... Blood everywhere. I was trying so hard. I'd take on a thousand – no, a million zombies with nothing but a bat to forget it. And the one time I can look at you, it's dark. It's always so fucking dark."

Nick didn't want to say that Ellis was beginning to ramble. It was heartbreaking. Ellis started choking on his words, sucking back tears. Honestly, Nick felt the same. He grabbed the back of Ellis' neck and brought him close. Shit, the kid was shaking so badly.

"Calm down. Jesus, it wasn't that bad…"

Ellis choked, but didn't speak.

"We're still in this together. I wouldn't let you do this alone."

"Why?" Ellis asked. "You didn't have to stay. You could'a left and been done with all this."

"You didn't give up on me," Nick growled. "So I'm not about to do it to you."

Nick gripped onto Ellis, pulling him close. Ellis hooked his arms around him and squeezed.

_What the fuck am I doing?_

Ellis released his emotions in a wave, clutching onto the fabric of Nick's bloody hospital gown. Nick closed his eyes and just felt Ellis' body shake through him. He hoped the lights would turn on. In the darkness, all he could hear was someone who was unrecognizable. When was the last time he heard him cry?

In the chopper. He was holding him, telling him to wake up. Again and again, Nick relived the moment, and held on to the mechanic even harder as if her were about to let go all over.

"I'm sorry," Ellis murmured. He stepped away. "I don't… I don't want you to get the wrong idea."

Nick closed the distance between them and crushed Ellis with his lips. How he found Ellis' mouth in the dark, he didn't know, but he wasn't about to let go. Ellis gasped a Nick pressed harder still, clutching the hair on the back of Nick's head. Heart hammering, leg throbbing – nothing else mattered. Nick couldn't remember why he was doing this – to prove a point? Or to make the chaos stop?

_The shriek of a Hunter filled his head in a memory; it was as if he felt the claws dig into his flesh again, ripping him apart and spilling him onto the floor. But Ellis was there, gripping onto him harder. His face, so terrified, and brave all at once…_

Nick hooked his arm around Ellis' back and hauled him around, pushing him onto the hospital bed. Nick was already on top of him, tasting his tongue and feeling sky high. It was better than any adrenaline he had felt. Ellis raked his hands down Nick's back, untying the strings of his hospital gown. Nick grabbed his hands before they could untie the entire frock and pinned them over Ellis' head with one hand. He used the other to bury his fingers into Ellis' hair and wrench his head back, exposing his neck.

_He remembered Ellis throwing him to the floor and landing on top of him, so relieved to see that the Hunter had let go. But his face turned into sheer terror. Nick had cried out in pain. He remembered Ellis grabbing for his belt and tearing it free to stop the bleeding…_

Nick bit into Ellis' flesh, and Ellis moaned. His back arched as Nick ran his hand down Ellis' body, down to the hem of his button t-shirt. The feel of his skin, so soft and rough in harmony, made Nick shiver. He needed more. So much more. He released Ellis' wrists to grip the fabric of his shirt, and tore it apart. The buttons broke free and fell to the tile floor. With his hand still bleeding from the torn IV and his though seeping through his gown, his limbs throbbed. He just didn't give a fuck. Ellis pushed Nick down, leading his face to his chest.

_The memory of Ellis propping up his broken body came to Nick. He remembered thinking… that it would be the last time say something. Anything._

Nick found the hem of Ellis' sweatpants and slid his hand under. Ellis faltered.

_Maybe it wasn't a mistake…_

Ellis raised himself for Nick to slide his pants down to his knees. The mechanic removed them completely and grabbed Nick's hips, pulling him against Nick. Nick could feel him through his boxers.

_"Maybe... I was too selfish to...realize that...there are more...people in this world...than me..."_

Nick sat up and pulled Ellis' boxers down. Ellis held onto Nick around his neck, panting and trembling. He reached down with his good arm, and ran his hand over Nick's boxers. Nick tensed.

_Ellis on the bed sucking life through a tube. He was so frail, so lifeless. So dead. And he was fighting. Fighting so hard to see him open those eyes, to hear his voice, to feel annoyed by it…_

The glow of the fire grew larger, and Nick could finally see a glimpse of Ellis' face. He was so close, so nervous.

"I don't want a one-time thing…" he panted. "Please…"

Nick didn't move for a moment. But the feeling he got when he knew he had to fight the Tank to give Ellis a fighting chance entered him. It was a feeling of warmth and certainty.

_It wasn't a mistake. The way I did it was, but I'm not going to lose you. We've been through too much, and I'll be damned if we don't get out of this together. _

"Do you remember…" Ellis breathed, "Did yah mean what you said to me? In the chopper?"

Nick's voice was ragged and husky. "I don't say something if it's not worth remembering."

And then he pressed himself into him.

The two of them groaned immediately. Ellis squirmed and brought his lips to Nick's collarbone. Last time, Nick just wanted to a fix. But now, after everything, he needed to know what he really felt like.

He started moving, gently as he could. Ellis relaxed and moved with him, a stark contrast to the way he acted when they first did this together. And when he moved with him, it felt so fucking good…

_Nick felt like he was hovering… a ghost looking down on his own body. He was tattered and restrained, with tubes all around him. He could see Ellis, even though he couldn't open his eyes. How could he be worse off? What did Ellis do? Keep breathing, just keep breathing. I'll kill whatever hurts you, just to keep you away from this again. Why did you help me? All I've ever done is hurt you, use you, confuse you… You let me do this to you, and I'm doing it again after I swore against it. What did you do to me? Everything is so fucking strange, stranger than a walking corpse. I'm more than your babysitter, I'm more than you're friend. But why do you let me? What did you do?_

Nick thrust deeper, wishing he could feel more, feel what he hadn't before. Ellis couldn't keep quiet. His moans and gasps and sighs were so wrong, so right, so amazing. Nothing had felt right in so long. Shouldn't this be wrong?

Ellis whispered his name, as if he didn't want to, but couldn't help it. Over and over, as he got closer, he said his name.

Nick dragged his hand down Ellis' slick chest and wrapped his hand around him, pulling him closer to the edge with every movement. Ellis grabbed the blankets under him, balled his hands into fists, bit down a moan. He was going to lose it. Nick would make him break, in an entirely different way. He wasn't too far off, either.

Ellis wrapped his legs around Nick's waist, pleading him to keep going. Nick felt his skin tear around his leg, felt the warmth of his blood on his skin, and let go everything he had to offer. The familiarity of pain, the craving for satisfaction all at once came wave after wave, Nick and Ellis together, finally together.

And as they came unraveled with each other, the orange hue of the fire outside cast a silhouette in the window.

The CEDA gunman couldn't see inside, but he knew they were there. He put away his weapon, shaking with anger, and smiled to himself.

_I'm still here. I'm always gonna be here. And I can't wait for you to come out. _


End file.
